In what ways do Kiwi identity and kiwiana hold relevance for

non-Pākehā migrant communities?

LINDSAY NEILL

A thesis submitted to Auckland University of Technology

in fulfilment of the requirements of

Doctor of Philosophy

2018

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Abstract

Identity is a contested domain within academic study. Within vernacular ways of being,

identities are often taken for granted. The combination of academic contestation and

taken-for-granted-ness conflates identities as sites of personal, political, material and

economic struggle. This is particularly the case in New World countries such as Aotearoa

New Zealand. New Zealand is often referred to as a country of migrants. New Zealand’s

habitation can be traced back to early Māori landing and settlements that are dated around

900AD. European settlement heralded a new age of identity in a nation that has come to

be known as Aotearoa New Zealand: Pākehā, as settler peoples, and Māori, as first

peoples or tangata whenua. While these identities have dominated New Zealand’s socio-

culture since that time, the country’s inhabitants have come to be known by many other

identifiers.

This research explores one of these identities: the ‘Kiwi’ identity. Specifically, my

research thesis explores how three migrant groups (Latin American, or Latinx, Pacific

Island people or Pasifika, and Chinese) have come to understand Kiwi identity and its

materiality, kiwiana. That understanding has been revealed by my use and adaptation of

qualitative description and PhotoVoice as methodologies, and theoretical approaches

including Deleuze and Guattari’s (1984) rhizome, social identity theory (Tajfel & Turner,

1979) and identity theory (Stryker, 1980). This amalgam of theory and practice was,

importantly, oriented by my decision to make ample room for the voices of my participant

groups.

Since the immigration law changes in 1986, Aotearoa New Zealand has opened up its

previous policies of discrimination and replaced them with an equitable, user-friendly

immigration policy model. Consequently, the number of migrants to the country has

rapidly increased. That increase has influenced identity change. Thus, my research is

timely in its exploration of Kiwi identity from the perspective of new migrant

communities.

From focus group meetings or individual interviews with 18 participants (6 per migrant

group), I distilled findings and a discussion that challenges existing literature about what

it means to be Kiwi in 2018 and possibly beyond. Most interestingly, my participants

realised the place and importance of Māori identity, culture and worldview in their

construction of Kiwi identity. Within that realisation, participants introduced new ways

of thinking about and coming to know contemporary ways of being Kiwi. These

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experiences were metered against their own realisations of identity change as participants

moved from being an aspirant migrant, toward a migrant ‘in process’ and finally to

becoming a resident.

This research also reveals that permeating what my participants told me, and showed me

through PhotoVoice, was the pernicious influence of media. I suggest that many of my

participants came to Aotearoa New Zealand mentally ‘pre-loaded’ with imagery of the

country and its culture, particularly of Māori culture. In that way, my research opens up

Kiwi identity and its formation for further investigation, particularly in light of the subtly

invasive influences of media. In that regard my research now represents a starting point

for further exploration, not an end-point.

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Acknowledgments

In completing this thesis, I thank and acknowledge the following people who have either

directly supervised me, assisted me in some way, or simply endured me as someone doing

a PhD. I note with humour that these categories are not mutually exclusive. To the

following people, my sincere thanks.

My supervisors: Professor Marilyn Waring, Professor Tina Engels-Schwarzpaul and

Dr Ella Henry. To quote Sir Ed, ‘we knocked the bastard off‘: thank you so much for

your time, expertise and patience.

My employer: To AUT, particularly my Head of School Linda O’Neill, Deans Nigel

Hemmington and Pare Keiha, and my colleagues who provided advice and support,

many and sincere thanks.

My potluck group of fellow PhD aspirants. Vivien Wei, particularly, and the rest of

the hermeneutic phenomenology group, who continued to support my work, despite

my defection to qualitative description.

My partner Andy who has been so supportive and given me the strength to continue

this journey. A PhD is a sacrifice; a large percentage of our lives has been spent on

this project. Thank you for sharing that sacrifice and being so good natured about it.

Finally, I thank and acknowledge my wider family. My brother and sisters who have

shared this voyage. My special thanks to my niece Bridget Gee and others who, while

not directly related to me, have helped me like family. I particularly acknowledge and

thank Antoinette Sturny, David Parker and the doctor to the doctors, Gavin Stansfield.

“I look at the world and I notice its turning”

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Table of Contents

Abstract ......................................................................................................................... ii

Acknowledgments ........................................................................................................ iv

Table of Contents .......................................................................................................... v

List of Figures .............................................................................................................. xi

List of Tables .............................................................................................................. xiii

Attestation of Authorship ........................................................................................... xiv

Chapter 1: Introduction ............................................................................................. 1

The Research Question .................................................................................................. 2

Defining Kiwi Identity .................................................................................................. 3

Defining Kiwiana .......................................................................................................... 3

Myths of Kiwi Identity and Kiwiana ............................................................................. 3

Methodological Standpoints .......................................................................................... 4

Getting to know the Author ........................................................................................... 5

My Infinity of Traces .................................................................................................... 6

Chapter Structure and Overview ................................................................................... 7

Chapter 2: Theoretical and Conceptual Framework .................................................. 7

Chapter 3: Background and Context .......................................................................... 8

Chapter 4: Literature Review ..................................................................................... 8

Chapter 5: Methodology ............................................................................................ 9

Chapter 6: Findings .................................................................................................... 9

Chapter 7: Discussion and Conclusion ...................................................................... 9

Chapter 2: Theoretical and Conceptual Framework ............................................ 10

Precis: Chapter Overview ............................................................................................ 10

Theoretical Framework ............................................................................................... 11

Introduction to Epistemology and Ontology ........................................................... 12

Constructing Ontology ............................................................................................. 13

Constructing Epistemology...................................................................................... 14

A Symbiosis: Ontology and Epistemology .............................................................. 14

Symbolic Interactionism .......................................................................................... 17

Social Constructionism ............................................................................................ 18

Introduction to Identity Theory................................................................................ 19

Base Concept 1: Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) Social Identity Theory ................... 21

Base Concept 2: Stryker’s (1980) Identity Theory .............................................. 23

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Intersectionality and Identity................................................................................ 25

Theories of Material Culture.................................................................................... 26

Meaning and Myth ................................................................................................... 28

Denotation and Connotation: Base Understandings ............................................ 29

Myth: An Introduction ......................................................................................... 30

A Chronology of Myth Theory ............................................................................ 33

The Rhizome: An Overview .................................................................................... 38

Conceptual Framework ............................................................................................... 41

Ontology and Epistemology .................................................................................... 41

Symbolic Interactionism .......................................................................................... 43

Social Construction of Reality ................................................................................. 43

Base Concepts 1 & 2: Social Identity Theory, Identity Theory and

Intersectionality ....................................................................................................... 44

Conceptualisations of Materiality ............................................................................ 45

Myth and Mythscapes .............................................................................................. 45

Concluding my Conceptual Framework ...................................................................... 46

Chapter 3: Background and Context ..................................................................... 48

Precis: Chapter Overview ............................................................................................ 48

Introduction to Identities in Aotearoa New Zealand ................................................... 48

Māori Identity .......................................................................................................... 49

Pākehā Identity ........................................................................................................ 51

Postcolonial Pākehā Identity .................................................................................... 52

The Kiwi ...................................................................................................................... 53

Defining the Kiwi Bird ............................................................................................ 53

Māori Myth, Materiality and the Kiwi Bird ............................................................ 56

The Kiwi and the Treaty of Waitangi ...................................................................... 58

‘Kiwi’ in the Media.................................................................................................. 60

‘Kiwi’ as Unifying Identifier ............................................................................... 61

‘Kiwi’ as Attribute ............................................................................................... 62

‘Kiwi’ in Negative Contexts ................................................................................ 62

‘Kiwi’ as Boast ..................................................................................................... 63

The New Zealand Herald and Myths of Being Kiwi ........................................... 63

Worldviews: Seeing my Participants .......................................................................... 64

Defining Cultural Values ......................................................................................... 66

Pacific Island Worldview Schemas via Talanoa...................................................... 67

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Pacific Island Worldview Schemas via Fonofale .................................................... 69

Chinese Worldview Encounters............................................................................... 71

Latin American Worldview Encounters .................................................................. 72

Concluding Thoughts on Participant Worldviews ................................................... 72

Migration to Aotearoa New Zealand ........................................................................... 73

Chinese Migration.................................................................................................... 75

Migration from the South Pacific ............................................................................ 76

Migration from Latin America ................................................................................ 77

Conclusion and Summary ........................................................................................... 77

Chapter 4: Literature Review ................................................................................. 78

Precis: Chapter Overview ............................................................................................ 78

The Dream Begins: Settler Culture ............................................................................. 79

Settlers: Making a Name for Themselves ................................................................... 80

There’s More to Kiwis than Birds ............................................................................... 81

Kiwiana: An Introduction ............................................................................................ 88

Materiality Matters, Space, Place and Identity in Otorohanga ................................ 92

The OE: Materiality Matters, I’m Outta Here and I’m Taking that Hei Tiki with

me! ........................................................................................................................... 95

Myths of Kiwi Identity and Kiwiana ........................................................................... 96

Egalitarianism and the ‘Golden Weather’ ............................................................... 97

Dispelling the Myth of Maleness: That Brawn is Valued More Than Brains ......... 99

Concluding the Literature Review ............................................................................ 104

Chapter 5: Methodology ........................................................................................ 106

Precis: Chapter Overview .......................................................................................... 106

Introduction to Methodology ..................................................................................... 106

Methodologies Considered and Rejected .................................................................. 225

Ethnography/Participant Observation .................................................................... 225

Grounded Theory ................................................................................................... 225

Action Research ..................................................................................................... 225

Narrative Inquiry/Oral History .............................................................................. 225

Ethnomethodology ................................................................................................. 226

Analytic Induction ................................................................................................. 226

Case Study ............................................................................................................. 226

Qualitative Content Analysis ................................................................................. 226

Discourse Analysis/Critical Discourse Analysis ................................................... 227

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Hermeneutic Phenomenology ................................................................................ 227

Symbolic Interactionism ........................................................................................ 227

Introducing Qualitative Description .......................................................................... 107

Applying Qualitative Description .......................................................................... 109

Thematic Analysis ................................................................................................. 110

PhotoVoice: Background and Method ...................................................................... 111

PhotoVoice: Advantages and Disadvantages ........................................................ 113

Pilot Study: Overview ............................................................................................... 114

Pilot Study Findings: Chinese Participants ............................................................ 115

Pilot Study Findings: Pacific Island Participants ................................................... 118

Pilot Study Findings: Latin American Participants ............................................... 119

Pilot Study Conclusions ......................................................................................... 121

Main Research Study: An Overview ......................................................................... 122

Ethics ..................................................................................................................... 122

Trustworthiness/Reliability and Validity ............................................................... 122

Defining and Locating Research Participants ........................................................ 123

Participant Research Selection Criteria ................................................................. 124

Finding the Participants ......................................................................................... 124

How Participants Gathered Data............................................................................ 124

Focus Groups ......................................................................................................... 127

Moderation/Facilitation for Focus Groups ......................................................... 127

Interviews: A Focus Group Deviation ................................................................... 129

Concluding My Methodology ................................................................................... 130

Chapter 6 Findings ................................................................................................. 131

Introduction to Findings ............................................................................................ 131

Chinese Findings ....................................................................................................... 132

Chinese Findings: Kiwiana .................................................................................... 132

Christmas ........................................................................................................... 133

The Waitangi Treaty Grounds ............................................................................ 134

Nature ................................................................................................................. 135

Coffee and Wine ................................................................................................ 136

Chinese Findings: Kiwi Identity ............................................................................ 138

Geology and Geography .................................................................................... 138

Democracy, Law and Order ............................................................................... 140

Retirement .......................................................................................................... 143

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Tip Top Ice Cream ............................................................................................. 143

Latin American Findings ........................................................................................... 144

Latin American Findings: Kiwiana........................................................................ 144

Māori: Pou Whenua and Tā Moko ..................................................................... 146

Paint it Black: Passports, Flag and Ferns ........................................................... 148

Land of Honey and Nature ................................................................................. 149

Latin American Findings: Kiwi Identity ................................................................ 150

Going Barefoot and Dressing in Casual Ways ................................................... 150

Social Mixing, Coffee and Barbeques ............................................................... 154

Nature ................................................................................................................. 156

Pacific Island Findings .............................................................................................. 157

Pacific Island Findings: Kiwiana ........................................................................... 157

Education............................................................................................................ 158

Food ................................................................................................................... 159

Housing and Amenities ...................................................................................... 161

Pacific Island Findings: Kiwi Identity ................................................................... 163

Māori .................................................................................................................. 163

The New Zealand Flag ....................................................................................... 166

Discrimination and Stereotype ........................................................................... 167

The All Blacks.................................................................................................... 169

Chapter 7: Discussion and Conclusion ................................................................. 171

Introduction ............................................................................................................... 171

Kiwiana and Kiwi Identity ........................................................................................ 172

Kiwiana .................................................................................................................. 172

Kiwi Identity .......................................................................................................... 178

Underpinning Theory ................................................................................................ 183

Identity Theory ...................................................................................................... 183

PhotoVoice and Qualitative Description ............................................................... 184

Material Culture ..................................................................................................... 185

Why is Kiwi Identity Changing? Driving Factors for Change .................................. 186

First Wave Identity and Materiality ....................................................................... 188

Second Wave Identity and Materiality .................................................................. 188

Third Wave Identity and Materiality ..................................................................... 189

Fourth Wave Identity and Materiality ................................................................... 189

Four New Myths of Being Kiwi ................................................................................ 190

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Research Limitations ................................................................................................. 192

Age, Number of Participants and Length of Residence......................................... 192

Heteronormativity .................................................................................................. 193

Snowball Sampling and Mediator Use .................................................................. 193

Focus Group versus Interviews.............................................................................. 193

Māori Input ............................................................................................................ 194

Future Research Recommendations .......................................................................... 194

Closing Reflections ................................................................................................... 194

References…………………………………………………………………………197

A Glossary of Māori Words .................................................................................. 221

Appendix A: Methodologies Considered and Rejected ………………………..225

Appendix B: PhotoVoice Safety Protocol ............................................................. 232

Appendix C: Participant Information Sheet and

Consent Form .................................................................................. 236

Appendix D: Facilitator Briefing Sheet…………………………………………236

Appendix E: Reserachers’ PhotoVoice Experience ............................................ 238

Appendix F: Publications…………………………………...............................................245

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List of Figures

Figure 1: The Dean family home. ..................................................................................... 7

Figure 2: Differentiating myth, legend, folktales, fables and fairytales.......................... 32

Figure 3: Contextual framework. .................................................................................... 42

Figure 4: Air New Zealand’s kiwiana waistcoat. ............................................................ 46

Figure 5: The Valley of the Wilkin from Huddleston’s Run, John Gully, 1877............... 80

Figure 6: Kiwi boot polish. ............................................................................................. 82

Figure 7: Making the feathers fly. ................................................................................... 82

Figure 8: Death of a Moa, Trevor Lloyd......................................................................... 83

Figure 9: New Zealand Post 1994 kiwiana kiwiana stamp issue. ................................... 89

Figure 10: New Zealand Post Millenium kiwiana stamp issue. ...................................... 89

Figure 11: Gore’s trout. ................................................................................................... 93

Figure 12: Te Puke’s kiwifruit. ....................................................................................... 93

Figure 13: Kiwiana posters for sale in Otorohanga. ....................................................... 94

Figure 14: ANZAC kiwiana. ........................................................................................... 94

Figure 15: Kiwi slang. ..................................................................................................... 94

Figure 16: Māoriana. ....................................................................................................... 94

Figure 17: Kauri logging gang, 1840. ............................................................................. 99

Figure 18: Flour bag shorts. .......................................................................................... 102

Figure 19: PhotoVoice research operationalisation. ..................................................... 112

Figure 20: Humour is everywhere................................................................................. 116

Figure 21: Lord of the Rings. ........................................................................................ 116

Figure 22: Primitive and modern. ................................................................................. 116

Figure 23: Kiwi identity. ............................................................................................... 116

Figure 24: Karicare. ...................................................................................................... 117

Figure 25: All Blacks. ................................................................................................... 117

Figure 26: Kiwi wine. ................................................................................................... 117

Figure 27: Kiwi identity and kiwiana............................................................................ 117

Figure 28: Kiwi identity and kiwiana............................................................................ 117

Figure 29: Chilling in the park. ..................................................................................... 119

Figure 30: Outdoors. ..................................................................................................... 120

Figure 31: Farm. ............................................................................................................ 120

Figure 32: Multiculturalism. ......................................................................................... 120

Figure 33: Cultural tattoo. ............................................................................................. 120

Figure 34: Māori culture. .............................................................................................. 120

Figure 35: Social customs. ............................................................................................ 120

Figure 36: Muffins. ....................................................................................................... 121

Figure 37: Shoppers. ..................................................................................................... 121

Figure 38: Home. .......................................................................................................... 121

Figure 39: Treaty Grounds Waitangi. ........................................................................... 134

Figure 40: Nature in New Zealand. .............................................................................. 135

Figure 41: Bay of Islands dolphins. ............................................................................. 135

Figure 42: Kiwi flat white. ............................................................................................ 136

Figure 43: Kiwi wine. ................................................................................................... 137

Figure 44: Rainbow. ...................................................................................................... 139

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Figure 45: Rotorua thermal activity. ............................................................................. 139

Figure 46: Silica, sulphur, water. .................................................................................. 140

Figure 47: Graduation. .................................................................................................. 141

Figure 48: Hero Parade, Big Gay Out. .......................................................................... 141

Figure 49: Policing, Big Gay Out. ................................................................................ 142

Figure 50: Tip Top ice cream. ....................................................................................... 144

Figure 51: Moko. ........................................................................................................... 146

Figure 52: Pou whenua. ................................................................................................ 146

Figure 53: Pou whenua in Hamilton. ............................................................................ 147

Figure 54: Kiwi passport. .............................................................................................. 148

Figure 55: Unfurling silver fern. ................................................................................... 148

Figure 56: The silver fern flag. ..................................................................................... 149

Figure 57: Mānuka honey. ............................................................................................ 149

Figure 58: Barefoot shopper. ........................................................................................ 151

Figure 59: Casual dress sense. ...................................................................................... 151

Figure 60: Barefoot and casual dress. .......................................................................... 152

Figure 61: Gumboots and shoes at the door. ................................................................. 153

Figure 62: Socialising at Piha. ...................................................................................... 154

Figure 63: Barbeque food.............................................................................................. 156

Figure 64: Kiwi barbeque tools. .................................................................................... 156

Figure 65: Defining a clean environment...................................................................... 157

Figure 66: The University of Auckland. ....................................................................... 158

Figure 67: A Kiwi pie. .................................................................................................. 159

Figure 68: Kiwi cheeses. ............................................................................................... 159

Figure 69: New Zealand butter. .................................................................................... 159

Figure 70: Pink snapper. ............................................................................................... 160

Figure 71: House for sale. ............................................................................................. 162

Figure 72: Māori ‘Queen’. ............................................................................................ 165

Figure 73: The New Zealand flag. ................................................................................ 166

Figure 74: The All Blacks. ............................................................................................ 169

Figure 75: Images from Tourism New Zealand (n.d.) website. .................................... 177

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List of Tables

Table 1: Purpose, ontology, epistemology, methodology and method used in this

research. .......................................................................................................................... 16

Table 2: Perspectives of symbolic interactionism. .......................................................... 17

Table 3: Facilitating in-group and out-group perceptions within social identity

theory............................................................................................................................... 21

Table 4: Key themes in social identity theory. ................................................................ 22

Table 5: Key themes advancing identity theory. ............................................................. 24

Table 6: Limitations of intersectionality. ........................................................................ 26

Table 7: Denotation and connotation. ............................................................................ 29

Table 8: Myth as second-order meaning. ........................................................................ 36

Table 9: Six characteristics of the rhizome. .................................................................... 39

Table 10: Applying the rhizome. ..................................................................................... 40

Table 11: Conceptualisations of identity theory and intersectionality. .......................... 44

Table 12: Species of kiwi in English and Māori. ............................................................ 54

Table 13: Birds of Aotearoa New Zealand. ..................................................................... 55

Table 14: Kiwi quotes from WAI 262. ............................................................................. 60

Table 15: Cultural values. ............................................................................................... 67

Table 16: Talanoa as research activity. .......................................................................... 68

Table 17: Summary of Pacific Island cultural values. .................................................... 70

Table 18: Summary of New Zealand immigration legislation 1881 to 1961. ................. 73

Table 19: Kiwi attributes, negatives and pride themes. .................................................. 87

Table 20: Qualitative research methodologies: Suitability and rationale....................227

Table 21: Overview of pilot participants. ..................................................................... 115

Table 22: Pacific Island pilot study feedback. .............................................................. 118

Table 23: Participant focus group and interview attendances. .................................... 126

Table 24: SHOWED – Application and research adaptation. ...................................... 126

Table 25: Moderator/facilitator skill sets and rationale. .............................................. 128

Table 26: New constructs of kiwiana. ........................................................................... 173

Table 27: New constructs of Kiwi identity. ................................................................... 179

Table 28: Characteristics of Kiwi identity/kiwiana waves. ........................................... 187

Table 29: Four new myths of kiwiana and being and becoming Kiwi. ......................... 190

Table 30: Research limitations. .................................................................................... 192

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Attestation of Authorship

I hereby declare that this submission is my own work and that, to the best of my

knowledge and belief, it contains no material previously published or written by another

person (except where explicitly defined in the acknowledgements), nor material which to

a substantial extent has been submitted for the award of any other degree or diploma of a

university or other institution of higher learning.

Signed:

Date:

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Chapter 1: Introduction

On a busy weekday in Brooklyn, New York, Kiwi chef Mark Simmons prepares one of

his specialties, New Zealand lamb rack. His restaurant, Kiwiana, is a taste of ‘home away

from home’. Kiwiana’s ambiance exudes practicality: wooden floors, table tops, bar and

banquette seating and walls with Kiwi-inspired art. There is not a Buzzy Bee or gumboot

in sight. While Mark’s lamb rack and kiwifruit pavlova are held in high regard, he recently

made headlines by standing up to United States President Donald Trump. Discreetly

placed at the bottom of every customer’s bill, Mark makes his point: “Immigrants make

America great (they also cooked your food and served you today)” (“Kiwi restaurant in

New York City”, 2017, para. 4).

Meanwhile, back in Aotearoa New Zealand, commentator and linguaphile Max Cryer

asks a pointed question: “Why have we stopped saying ‘she’ll be right’?” (Cryer, 2018).

Cryer notes the colloquialism’s association with Kiwi identity, suggesting that “it was the

unspoken motto of Barry Crump and later Fred Dagg both [of whom were] pleasantly

confident of their own abilities, and the belief that everything would be ... hunky dory”

(para. 5).

Although hemispheres apart, Simmons and Cryer have much common. Within kiwiana’s

confines, Simmons conveyed Cryer’s antithesis: that ‘she wouldn’t be right’, and, most

importantly, that someone needed to speak up. These seemingly unconnected incidents

show Cryer and Simmons’s individual embodiment and expressions of being Kiwi.

Simmons achieved this in a David-and-Goliath way: punching well above his weight;

Cryer by showing that the male-centric Kiwi worldview might be declining in quality.

Cryer asked why ‘she’ll be right’ uses ‘she’ of all the available gendered alternatives.

Through their engagements, Simmons and Cryer achieved something else – they

reinforced a way of being, an identity: Kiwi; and they perpetuated the myths associated

with that identity and its materiality: kiwiana.

This thesis explores migrant perceptions of being and becoming a Kiwi and its

materiality, kiwiana, in Aotearoa New Zealand. My research was completed within

Chinese, Latin American and Pacific Island migrant communities in Aotearoa New

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Zealand. With increasing migration to Aotearoa New Zealand, my research is timely and

important. I act locally and, in that context, it is important to be aware of external, often

disempowering forces which undermine minority voices. My research, therefore, makes

space for the voices of members of new ethnic migrant groups. The rise in migrant

numbers within Chinese, Latin American and Pacific Island communities in New Zealand

is changing the taken-for-granted nature of what it means to be Kiwi. As migrants, my

participants’ perceptions of Kiwi identity and kiwiana are important. As I have come to

understand from the perspectives of my participants, Kiwi identity and kiwiana reflect

ways of being and becoming that migrants to New Zealand encounter. Additionally,

migrants, including my participants, potentialise the re-evaluation of new ways of being

Kiwi, its materiality kiwiana and the myths surrounding each domain.

While the focus of my thesis reflects identity, materiality and myth, it is underpinned by

my concern that global, politically right-leaning movements propagate ways of being that

undermine the voices of minorities. In a small but meaningful way, my participants and I

redress that movement within a democratic nation. In that way, my work reflects the spirit

of Aotearoa New Zealand as the free-standing “social laboratory of the world” (Phillips,

2012, p. 3) because my participants and this research realised new ways of being and

becoming a Kiwi.

The Research Question

My research asks: In what ways do Kiwi identity and kiwiana hold relevance for non-

Pākehā migrant communities?

That question is underpinned by the following conceptual questions put to the

participants:

In what ways have Kiwi identity and kiwiana influenced you as you have changed

from aspirant migrant, to migrant and then to resident of Aotearoa New Zealand?

What new perceptions of Kiwi identity and kiwiana have you experienced?

How have you negotiated these themes as existent and/or emergent realities?

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Defining Kiwi Identity

Within my research, ‘Kiwi’ is understood as a vernacular term applied to and self-

ascribed by people from Aotearoa New Zealand (Sands & Beverland, 2010). Kiwi is also

the name of an indigenous flightless bird. In this thesis, I distinguish them via

capitalisation. As a people identifier, the Māori word Kiwi takes a capital K; as a bird

identifier, kiwi takes a lower-case k.

For me, Kiwi is an inclusive term. It is applicable to any person, of any ethnicity who

recognises themselves as, or aspires to become, part of Aotearoa New Zealand.

Additionally, I propose that Kiwi includes Māori and Pākehā people identifying with

those descriptors but choosing to also use Kiwi. For me, Kiwi recognises inclusivity and,

within that, an inestimable “infinity of traces” (Gramsci, 1971, p. 324) through my

participants’ lived experiences and backgrounds. Those traces, experiences and

backgrounds incorporate contemporary intersectionalities compounded within my own

ontologies and epistemologies.

Defining Kiwiana

Within this research, kiwiana includes the items of material culture supporting a Kiwi

identity. In my thesis, I realise kiwiana’s actancy in Wolfe and Barnett’s (2001)

suggestion that kiwiana aids in identity recognition, and in C. Bell’s (2012d) observation

that kiwiana includes “symbols of the nation [that are] imbued with accumulated

meanings” (p. 349). Yet, within my research I distinguish a problem in the way kiwiana

is often understood. In my literature review, I discuss the fact that kiwiana is commonly

associated with Pākehā identity. I question why, given that relationship, kiwiana is not

called Pākehāna, and similarly why Māori materiality, Māoriana, is considered a subset

of kiwiana. These situations, and my consideration of them, reflect the socio-politically

bifurcated nature of Māori and Pākehā in Aotearoa New Zealand (A. Bell, 2006).

Myths of Kiwi Identity and Kiwiana

Kiwi identity and kiwiana are comprised of tangible items and intangible themes. A

person identifying as Kiwi is tangible; they can be touched. However, Kiwi identity also

incorporates intangible themes because being Kiwi reflects an aesthetic. C. Bell (2004)

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alludes to this aesthetic in her “fictive cultural history” (p. 175) construct (see Chapter 4:

Literature Review). Kiwi’s ethereal nature is made tangible through its material

expression. Exemplifying that tangibility are the Buzzy Bee and the Swanndri.

Respectively, these items represent the innocence of childhood and the industriousness

associated with being Kiwi within the symbolic meaning of a material item.

Complementing the relationship between kiwiana items and their symbolic meaning are

a range of myths reflecting both Kiwi identity and kiwiana.

In my literature review, I explore these myths. Then, in my findings and discussion

chapters, I present a range of new intangibles: the new myths that my participants have

identified through their particular experiences of Kiwi identity and kiwiana.

Methodological Standpoints

To understand my participants’ experiences of Kiwi identity and kiwiana, my research

used qualitative description. Qualitative description allowed the data, sourced from my

participants, and minimally interpreted by me, to speak for itself. In that way, qualitative

description affords a close relationship not only between the researcher and participants

but also between my written work and my reader. Additionally, other methodological

standpoints have influenced and guided my research. They have included the following

realisations:

That ontology and epistemology are symbiotically related.

That the social construction of reality (Berger & Luckmann, 1966) underpins how we

make sense of the world around us and, within the construction and understanding of

knowledge, forms our worldview.

That ontology, epistemology, the social construction of reality and my other

theoretical and methodological choices, including mythscape (D. Bell, 2003), social

identity theory and identity theory (Tajfel & Turner, 1979; Stryker, 1980),

PhotoVoice and qualitative description (Sandelowski, 2000), are socio-temporally

located.

That consequent to the socio-temporal nature of knowledge and the researcher’s

conceptions of it, new ways of being and perceptions of identity, materiality and myth

can be realised.

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That my research recognises the dynamic nature of knowledge, being and becoming

by suggesting that Aotearoa New Zealand is now entering its fourth wave of migration

and identity construction. I directly link my participants’ data to their connection, as

migrants, to that fourth wave and explore that connection in my discussion chapter.

Getting to Know the Author

To give the reader an insight into the relationship between my topic and me as the author

of this thesis, I now discuss my own experience of what it means to be Kiwi, particularly

a Kiwi male. This existential fact has influenced my worldview and, by consequence, my

thesis. A whole body of academic literature promotes the idea that being Kiwi is achieved

through masculine attributes and ways of being. However, I challenge that view (see

Chapter 4: Literature Review). My own life as a gay man has meant that I have

experienced marginalisation and discrimination because of my sexuality. I am not and

have not been part of mainstream culture. I have lived at its fringe. In this regard, I readily

identify with minority groups that also struggle to fit into an alien culture. For me, a Kiwi

man can be whatever that man decides to be. However, having noted that, structural and

subtle behavioural reminders ensure that being a Kiwi man today can be, in my opinion,

a constricting experience.

‘Being a man’, making do, being innovative and creative, yet somewhat lacking in visible

expressions of emotion, characterise that way of being. When I grew up in rural West

Otago in the 1960s, most men appeared to me to embody those characteristics.

Consequently, in this thesis, as in my later life, I critically challenge the male-centric

focus promoted by Kiwi identity and kiwiana.

Additionally, I worked as a chef for 17 years (1973-1990), which has influenced the way

I perceive the world. Kitchen work is a tough experience. There are the dangers of the

environment, the pressures guests bring, and the need to be innovative, profitable and,

above all else, consistent. Customers expect the same meal to be the same (or better) than

the last time they enjoyed it. Being a chef has taught me discipline, organisation and how

to take orders from demanding bosses and managers. Being a chef has also introduced

me to publishing. I am co-author of The New Zealand Chef. Now in its fourth edition, The

New Zealand Chef is the standard culinary text for all students in training to become a

chef under Unit Standards and London City & Guilds qualifications in New Zealand.

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Consequently, through a life lived in busy kitchens in New Zealand, England and

America, and in publishing culinary texts and other academic journal articles, I have

experienced many things that have ‘taken me out of the kitchen’. Yet, the kitchen remains

with me. In writing this thesis, I am attempting to develop a ‘sure to rise’1 recipe. Aware

of this, and my background as a chef, my readers can expect the occasional culinary

metaphor and comparison but, alas, no recipes.

My Infinity of Traces

Aspects of Pākehā and Māori identity, Māori myth, as well as my participants’

worldviews provide my research with valuable information reflecting diverse participant

ontologies and epistemologies. This information underpins my contemporary

understanding of the symbiotic nature of knowledge and getting to know knowledge, and

therefore provides insights for my participants, readers and myself. I am aware that those

domains and histories influence and underpin my own understandings of Kiwi identity,

kiwiana and being Pākehā and/or Māori. Consequently, in considering, researching, and

writing this thesis introduction, I felt compelled to explore my own whakapapa: my

genealogy. Who were my ancestors and how did they come to Aotearoa New Zealand?

Finding this out has extended my self-knowledge, raising responses to the question “Who

is Lindsay Neill and where did he come from?” Until I embarked on this thesis, I had

barely reflected on the past. My investigations into my family’s history have made me

aware of how hard my forebears’ lives were, and how their experiences as colonist-

settlers differ from my own comparatively comfortable lifestyle.

A family tree book, compiled by an aunt in the early 1970s, provided insightful material

about my paternal family. My ancestors, Samuel and Jean Manson, arrived in Aotearoa

New Zealand in the early 1840s. Their migration exemplified the tyranny of distance

(Blainey, 2001) in ways New Zealanders today can barely appreciate. Their voyage to

Aotearoa New Zealand from England took 90 days and culminated in their ship berthing

near Akaroa. The Manson family soon settled in the Port Hills area near Christchurch in

New Zealand’s South Island. On arrival, like many other early settlers, Samuel and Jean

Manson had to make do with what limited utilitarian resources were available. In reading

1 A tag-line phrase for Edmond’s Baking Powder (an item of kiwiana). ‘Sure to rise’ implied failure-free

baking.

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my aunt’s book, I was not surprised to learn that the Mansons were innovators, nor that

as time passed other surnames, including Māori surnames, emerged in our family.

Samuel Manson’s ability to turn his hand to anything was best exemplified by his

construction skills. As an indentured servant to the Dean family, Samuel Manson built

the Dean family home. In constructing the home, Samuel’s forgetfulness was exposed.

On a buying trip to Wellington with the Dean family, he purchased then forgot the nails

needed to build the home. Realising this on his return to Christchurch, Samuel improvised

by cutting the construction timbers to interlock.

Samuel’s innovation in building the house without nails

proved successful and the Dean homestead can still be

seen standing today in Christchurch’s Hagley Park (see

Figure 1). The home’s history and unique construction

techniques provide Christchurch city with a popular

tourist attraction.

As early settlers, Samuel and Jean Manson embodied

the contemporary Kiwi characteristic of notable

innovation. Samuel’s response to the nail issue

reflected his innovative spirit and ability to adapt in a

unique way.

That characteristic exemplifies contemporary Kiwi

identity. Through my own “infinity of traces” (Gramsci, 1995, p. 324), I perpetuate my

ancestors’ characteristic of innovation but in a contemporary context. In my engagements

as a creative chef, book author and academic researcher, I, too, have often had to ‘make

do’.

Chapter Structure and Overview

Chapter 2: Theoretical and Conceptual Framework

This chapter traces my search for the theoretical perspectives that best suit my research

needs and identifies suitable theoretical positions. Those positions form my theoretical

framework. My use or operationalisation of those theories forms my conceptual

framework. Consequently, my theoretical framework is distinguished from my

Figure 1: The Dean family

home.

Source: Riccarton House

and Bush (2018).

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conceptual framework through operationalisation. In particular, I outline my use and

adaptation of Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) social identity theory and Stryker’s (1980)

identity theory as well as their operationalisation in my consideration of Crenshaw’s

(1991) intersectionality. This chapter provides an overview, subdivided into theoretic and

applied sections, of the potency of materiality and myth, and of the ways in which

constructs of materiality and identity are transferred via Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987)

rhizome.

Chapter 3: Background and Context

Chapter Three explores, under two central topic headings, identity and the embodiment

of ontology and epistemology. Specifically, I discern how those themes symbiotically

provide worldviews for my participants and myself. In exploring identity, I present

sections critically discussing Pākehā, Māori and Kiwi identities. This chapter also

provides an overview of the nation’s discriminatory history of immigration. Within that

discussion, I propose that Aotearoa New Zealand is beginning its fourth wave of

migration and identity formation, and that my participants are key players in this

movement. I expand upon my Four Wave model later in the findings and discussion

chapters of my thesis.

Chapter 4: Literature Review

Drawing from popular press and academic sources, Chapter Four critically evaluates my

selection of existing literature on Kiwi identity and kiwiana. As identifiers, Kiwi identity

and its materiality, kiwiana, are congruent with Billig’s (1995) themes of nationalism,

especially in how identity and its materiality are often taken-for-granted constructs.

Therefore, the inclusion of popular literature is an important aspect of my thesis. The

popular press in New Zealand uses notions of Kiwi identity in ways that assume the

readers already know who or what Kiwis are. This places the popular press in a powerful

position. Newspapers, for instance the New Zealand Herald, influence in subtle yet

powerful ways how Kiwis see themselves and are seen by others. My literature review

recognises that position and its public influence. Rounding out my literature review, and

cognisant of the view that Kiwi identity is dominated by maleness, I explore the place of

Kiwi women and their contribution to Kiwi identity.

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Chapter 5: Methodology

My methodology chapter details my exploration of the various methods that might have

suited the research before I decided that qualitative description best suited my research

needs. Additionally, this chapter outlines my refinement of method through my pilot

study work, my selection of participants, my choice of focus group and interview formats,

and finally my thematic analysis of my participants’ data.

Chapter 6: Findings

Cognisant that qualitative description avoids over-interpretation, in my findings chapter

I present my participants’ experiences and knowledge of Kiwi identity and kiwiana by

maximising their voice. The intent of my research is not to over-interpret or compare

responses between groups. Consequently, I present my findings sequentially. I outline

what my three participant groups believed to be important about Kiwi identity and

kiwiana. In that way, my findings facilitate the next chapter, my discussion.

Chapter 7: Discussion and Conclusion

My discussion opens up my research within a wider framework model. That framework

model presents my conceptualisations of how four waves of migration and identity

construction have influenced Kiwi identity and kiwiana; new Kiwi myths; research

limitations; and recommendations for further research. I conclude my thesis with some

final reflections.

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Chapter 2: Theoretical and Conceptual

Framework

Precis: Chapter Overview

This chapter is presented in two sections. The first section presents my theoretical

framework. The second section presents my conceptual framework. I differentiate those

sections by noting that my theoretical framework presents some key theoretical

perspectives from which I selected component parts to best suit this research. Those

refined components were operationalised in my work and constitute my conceptual

framework. In considering what I would select for my theoretical and conceptual

frameworks, I was aware of the dynamic nature of my participant groups and how any

theory within my work needed to reflect their dynamism. Consequently, I have come to

understand and appreciate that theory within either framework must enhance the

understanding of participants’ experience, not serve to restrict it.

Through that thinking, I have realised significant adaptations to social identity theory,

(Tajfel & Turner, 1979), identity theory (Stryker, 1980) and Deleuze and Guattari’s

(1987) rhizome, within a wider awareness that ontology and epistemology are in

symbiosis. Consequently, my theoretical and conceptual frameworks not only reflect my

adaptation of theory to suit the research purpose, but also my own growth within and

through those theories, their adaptation and their application to everyday experience. That

process, and the realisations that have come about through it, have proved valuable. I

liken my work in this chapter to constructing a recipe: if on account of taste, texture and

quantity/quality, the ingredients are not correct, the result is not palatable. My recipe of

theoretical ingredients in this chapter, I believe, is ‘just right’.

In my theoretical framework, I discuss perspectives on ontology and epistemology, and

their symbiosis. Then, I explore social identity and identity theories (Tajfel & Turner,

1979; Stryker, 1980). I extend and refine my identity theory choices with Crenshaw’s

(1991) construct of intersectionality. Additionally, I explore theoretical perspectives of

material culture, semiotics and myth. Those themes and theories are important because

they illuminate my later writing about Kiwi identity and kiwiana. I focus on D. Bell’s

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(2003) mythscape as my choice of myth theory. Finally, I present Deleuze and Guattari’s

(1987) rhizome as the concluding section to my theoretical framework. I use the rhizome

in the way I use intersectionality (Crenshaw, 1991), as a second refracting lens for my

research that draws down key findings from data.

My conceptual framework is presented in a similar order. Its focus is on the refinement

of theory to best suit my research. The adaptation and synthesis of theory within my

conceptual framework reflects my contribution to the advancement of theory through

applied innovation. In these ways, my conceptual framework provides the tool that

operationalises theory in my research and writing.

Theoretical Framework

In writing this thesis, I have come to what are, for me, entirely new ways of thinking

about identity, materiality, ontology and epistemology. Whereas I used to passively

accept theory, now I am more consciously engaged in a silent conversation with each

theorist. Firstly, I need to understand what the theorist is saying. Secondly, I need to link

that understanding to my research. I do this by asking myself ‘What does this position

offer my work?’ If the theory advances, illuminates and/or adds a critical perspective

positioning my work within a wider framework then I consider that theory needs deeper

exploration. Despite this approach, my experience has been that most theories are not

perfect research ‘fits’. I have learnt how to consider a theory and to disregard it, or to

adapt it to best suit my work. In doing so, my work contributes toward the evolution of

theory through adaptation and my theoretical modifications reflect the difference between

a theoretical and a conceptual framework. For me, approaching theory can be regarded as

dining from a buffet: it is a matter of choosing the best quality, not indiscriminately

throwing back all that is available. As a result, I have been rigorous in my choice of

theory.

I have also experienced new understandings about the constitution of knowledge.

Textbook reading had initially led me to believe that ontology and epistemology were

separate domains, and indeed it is convenient and often meaningful to consider them in

that fashion. My new understanding, however, reveals ways in which they are in

symbiosis. To understand my own worldview, and that of others, I now see that the

themes constituting knowledge are interdependent and overlapping domains. My

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enlightened understanding supersedes my previous concerns about which of these

concepts ‘came first’. For me, such thinking was unproductive and confusing. My

realisation is that ontology and epistemology are constructs that have been, to some

extent, artificially bifurcated from what is in many ways a joint or symbiotic relationship.

My view of this relationship now incorporates my belief that knowledge, and its relevance

to being, is a social construction underpinning how we each create our world and perceive

the world of others.

Introduction to Epistemology and Ontology

Ontology and epistemology are meta-themes in philosophy. Buchanan (2010) suggested

that each domain, respectively, incorporates “the existence of things” (p. 352) and “the

constitution of knowledge” (p. 153). This positions knowledge as an essential

consideration in identity (Schroeder, 2014) and therefore materiality. My consideration

of ontology and epistemology has expanded my gaze on identity and materiality as well

as the importance of knowledge in the construction of worldview. Undertaking this

research and thinking about these meta-themes has made me reconsider my own ways of

being, my own beliefs and my own knowledge. My reflection and practice within my

research forced me to question the very essence of what it means to be me. These

realisations caught me off-guard. I had not given much thought before this to interrogating

constructs of knowledge in my own life. I had passively accepted these domains and their

implications. Recollecting my past has, however, enriched my understanding of the

specific field of knowledge addressed in this thesis, and my research with my participants,

by adding a personal perspective.

Despite the social changes occurring in the 1960s, my years of schooling then simply did

not encourage questioning. Now, recognising my own personal growth, I can ask

questions! Questions are important because how I see others, how I see myself and how

others see me are crucial topics for a thesis on identity. Under this sort of scrutiny, my

perceptions of self and of others reveal themselves to be contemporaneously founded in

the philosophy of knowledge. My realisations incorporate the importance and symbiotic

nature of ontology and epistemology. My insights have made me value the similarities

and differences in the worldviews that my participants and I bring to the research. This

makes the combination of my own and my participants’ experiences of Kiwi identity and

kiwiana unique to this thesis. The changes that I have experienced have expanded my

13 | P a g e

worldview and this, in turn, is reflected in this research. My new awareness has opened

up my thoughts and feelings about identity and material culture, and about being a New

Zealander. Additionally, for me, there has been the conscious realisation that, of course,

like other people or identities, I too am a work in progress. Alongside personal growth,

my intellectual development has afforded deeper insights into what it means to be Kiwi

for my research participants as well as for myself.

Until now, my understanding of the constructs of knowledge was that they were dry

subjects, linked in my mind to past, antiquated and simplistic binary ways of thinking.

Now they are vibrant, understandable, and more clearly applicable to everyday life and

to the real lives that I research. While, as philosophical terms, ontology and epistemology

sound weighty and academic, they are essential in understanding vernacular topics such

as mine.

Constructing Ontology

For Laverty (2003), ontology explores “the form and nature of reality and what can be

known about it” (p. 26). Tolich and Davidson (2003) clarified this view by suggesting

that “ontology deals with questions about what things exist in the ‘real’ world” (p. 24).

For Bryman (2008), ontology represents “a theory of the nature of social entities” (p. 696)

and that author asks whether “the social world is regarded as something external to social

actors, or as something that people are in the process of fashioning” (p. 696). Laverty

(2003) and Bryman (2008) linked ontology to the social construction of reality2. Creswell

(2013) also suggested that reality is concretised as the researcher reports “different

perspectives as themes develop in the findings” (p. 696). However, the realisation of

knowledge also reflects less concretised ways of being and belief. This is especially so

for those who hold spiritual beliefs. Exemplifying that within a Māori context is the belief

that

when a person is near the point of death the spirits of his dead forbears come hither from

the spirit-world in order to guide his own wairua to spirit-land. The spirit-world, or the

entrance thereto, lies afar off in the west, under the setting sun, hence it is alluded to as

the hidden land of Tane. (Best, 1934/2016, p. 82)

2 The social construction of reality, popularised in sociology by Berger and Luckmann (1966), suggests that

“society cannot exist without acting selves; in turn, the self is a product of society” (Jary & Jary, 2000, p.

566).

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With these positions in mind, I propose that my research is an ontologically-based

exploration of the similarities and differences of migrant experiences of Kiwi identity and

kiwiana. Not only do I refer to the similarity and differences in group perceptions of Kiwi

identity and kiwiana, but I also engage those perceptions by contrasting them with

existing literature on Kiwi identity and kiwiana. In these ways, ontology, for me, reflects

the fission between existing thinking about Kiwi identity and kiwiana and the new

thinking about it that migrant participants contribute. In this way, my research places

ontology as a dynamic variable constituting how our worldviews are constructed.

Constructing Epistemology

Buchanan (2010) suggested that epistemology asks, “What does it mean to know

something and by what means are we able to have knowledge?” (p. 153). Meanwhile,

Creswell (2013) proposed that qualitative researchers ask three questions about

knowledge: “What counts as knowledge, how are knowledge claims justified, and what

is the relationship between the researcher and that being researched?” (p. 21). Creswell’s

(2013) statement logically necessitates an epistemological relationship between the

researcher, the research topic and research participants. That synergy creates an

epistemological knowledge ‘flow’ in multiple directions.

A Symbiosis: Ontology and Epistemology

My view is that the authors cited in the previous two sub-sections reflect the symbiotic

relationship between ontology and epistemology. I understand that “the existence of

things” (Buchanan, 2010, p. 352) and “the constitution of knowledge” (Buchanan, 2010,

p. 153) feed off each other. My contribution, understanding that these constructs of

knowledge are in symbiosis, can be demonstrated by asking the following questions:

“How can we know about the existence of things without considering knowledge?”, and

“How can we consider knowledge without existence?” For me these questions, and their

answers, demonstrate the interdependent nature of knowing about knowledge. I apply that

interdependence in the domain of the everyday: the vernacular nature of Kiwi identity

and kiwiana. The blended model of knowledge provides useful ways to engage with and

understand both domains. Appreciating that the constructs of knowledge are not rarefied

truth systems solely linked to philosophy and religious discourse, I now consider that

ontology and epistemology are simply two more social constructions that are dynamic

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and constantly becoming something more. Consequently, these realisations have enabled

my own understanding and appreciation of the worldview of my research participants.

Laverty (2003) pinpointed my connections: “What is the nature of the relationship

between the knower and what can be known?” (p. 26).

In the ways outlined above, my understanding of what constitutes knowledge reflects the

postmodern positioning of my work. A postmodern perspective provides a theoretical

base for knowledge by promoting an understanding of how my participants’ worldviews

are constructed and negotiated. In exploring Kiwi identity and kiwiana, I am aware that

there are multiple representations and interpretations of these domains which constitute

how others come to know and understand these two concepts. My ontological and

epistemological positioning essentially proposes a multifaceted Kiwi identity that is

represented by and interpreted within an equally diverse materiality. With synergy comes

the knowledge that provides a base for appreciating how people come to know, participate

in and understand their own worldviews and the worldviews of others.

Yet, how we come to this point is more complex than my idea of a symbiosis suggests.

There have been significant challenges to dominant Western models of thinking, being

and becoming. In Aotearoa New Zealand, Smith (2008) proposed that alternate

understandings of how we know what we know, and which histories ‘mattered’ are

necessary because

research ‘through imperial eyes‘ describes an approach which assumes that Western

ideas about the most fundamental things are the only ideas possible to hold, certainly

the only rational ideas, and the only ideas which can make sense of the w orld, of reality,

of social life and of human beings. (p. 56)

Smith (2008) advocated a revised Māori worldview and research agenda. “The

development of new ways of thinking about indigenous Māori research, and approaches

to the way this research should be framed, have emerged in the last decade under the

rubric of Kaupapa Māori research” (pp. 178-179). Other challenges have been mounted.

Feminists, including Stanley and Wise (1993), Hemmings (2012) and Stanley (2013)

have advocated feminist perspectives in research. In queer theory, a similar change has

occurred. These changes have been facilitated through the work of Foucault (1978) and

Butler (1999). These revisions of the understanding of what constitutes knowledge reflect

the diversity of contemporary living and emphasise how diversity has permeated the

academy in positive and productive ways. Consequently, reconsiderations of ontology

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and epistemology accommodate different worldviews and inform research perspectives

and methodologies. These perspectives in turn reflect the intersectional nature of

contemporary life (see the section on “Intersectionality” in this chapter, below).

Table 1, below, presents my ontology, epistemology, methodology and method. While

this table has a structure, it is to be viewed osmotically: its cells are porous as it reflects

the dynamic nature of the researcher/participant relationship.

Table 1: Purpose, ontology, epistemology, methodology and method used in this

research.

Purpose of Research To explore the ways Kiwi identity and kiwiana hold relevance for

non-Pākehā migrant communities?

Ontology

“What is the form and nature of

reality and what can be known

about it?” (Laverty, 2003, p. 26).

Ontology is realised through the life world (the world we live in)

and how migrant participants make sense of that world within the

domains of Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Ontology is compounded

and shaped by pre-understandings, history, culture, language and

participant ‘being’ rather than through their ‘knowing of being’.

Epistemology

“What is the nature of the

relationship between the knower

and what can be known?”

(Laverty, 2003, p. 26).

Epistemology asks, how do we know what we know? How have

participants experienced and come to know Kiwi identity, kiwiana

through their status as intended migrants, migrants, and New

Zealand residents?

Methodology

Qualitative description provides and incorporates a limited

interpretation of participant experience and data. Qualitative

description emphasises the data as ‘star’.

Method

PhotoVoice, interviews, focus groups, and thematic analysis of

data, emphasising the description and reporting of participant

experience.

Note. Adapted from Laverty (2003).

I apply my research cognisant of my own personal growth and growing knowledge base.

My work is framed by the synergistic worldviews of my participants, as I discern them.

The overlapping, complementary and mutually reinforcing nature of the ontologies and

epistemologies of my participants influences my own worldview, and how I use these

constructs to discover and actively engage my participants’ worldviews. My realisations,

via research, facilitate my deeper understandings of materiality, identity and plurality as

well as what it means to be Lindsay Neill. Consequently, my research represents a journey

of self-realisation and my research thesis contains auto-ethnographic elements.

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Symbolic Interactionism

As a methodology, Patton (2002) proposed that symbolic interactionism asked: “What

common set of symbols and understandings has emerged to give meaning to people’s

interactions?” (p. 112). Carter and Fuller (2015) noted that symbolic interactionism is a

prevalent construct within at least 11 contemporary sociological domains. Consequently,

symbolic interactionism is both theory and methodology. As an academic paradigm,

symbolic interactionism is renowned within three schools of academic thinking: Blumer’s

(1969) Chicago School (Carter & Fuller, 2015), which had two waves of influence

(Musolf, 2003); and Kuhn’s Iowa School and Stryker’s Indiana School (Carter & Fuller,

2016). These perspectives are outlined in Table 2, below.

Table 2: Perspectives of symbolic interactionism.

Interactional School of Thought Basic Premises

Blumer’s (1969) Chicago School ● Blumer introduced Mead’s (1934) concepts to sociology.

● Blumer emphasised that interaction with others created the

self inasmuch as people “are engaged in mindful action where

they manipulate symbols and negotiate the meaning of

situations” (Carter & Fuller, 2016, p. 933).

● That creation/recreation is dynamic: Blumer realised symbolic

interaction as “the peculiar and distinctive character of

interaction as it takes place between human beings” (Carter &

Fuller, 2016, p. 933).

● The structure of society reflects the interaction of people.

Kuhn’s Iowa School and Stryker’s

Indiana School’s

● Kuhn and Stryker moved symbolic interactionism toward a

positivist paradigm that was not “limited to qualitative

approaches” (Carter & Fuller, 2016, p. 935).

● Kuhn emphasised studying dyads, triads and intentionality in

laboratory conditions in ways that expanded the academic

vocabulary.

● Stryker realised that “meanings and interactions led to

relatively stable patterns that create and uphold social

structures” (Carter & Fuller, 2016, p. 936).

● Stryker expanded Mead’s “concept of role taking” (Carter &

Fuller, 2016, p. 936), realising that roles were influenced by a

person’s interactions with social structure.

Note. Adapted from Carter and Fuller (2016).

As a social theory, symbolic interactionism, unlike structuralist perspectives of being,

focuses on individuals as “agentic, autonomous, and integral in creating their social

world[s]” (Carter & Fuller, 2015, p. 1). Within that autonomy, individuals communicate

with others (Carter & Fuller, 2016). Consequently, symbolic interactionism incorporates

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the idea that people make sense of their world from their own subjective views and

experiences. Subjectivity of experience aligns with Mead’s (1934) suggestion that “we

are not born with an already-made self. Rather, the self emerges out of and in turn

influences, the practical conduct of social interaction” (p. 258). As Blumer (1969)

observed, and Carter and Fuller (2015) noted, symbolic interactionism promotes the

following ideas:

individuals act based on the meanings objects have for them;

interaction occurs within a particular social and cultural context in which physical and

social objects (persons), as well as situations, must be defined or categorised based

on individual meanings;

meanings emerge from interactions with other individuals and with society; and

meanings are continuously created and recreated through interpreting processes

during interaction with others.

For my research, symbolic interactionism not only reflects my participants and my own

interactions with each other and separate from each other but also is realised by

participant use of PhotoVoice (see Chapter 5: Methodology). In using PhotoVoice my

participants were empowered as “agentic, autonomous, and integral in creating their

social world” (Carter & Fuller, 2015, p. 1) through image collection, discussion and

negotiation.

Social Constructionism

Burr (2003) proposed that Berger and Luckmann’s (1966) thesis of the social construction

of reality drew upon “the sub discipline of symbolic interactionism … [inasmuch] as

people we construct our own and each other’s identities through our everyday encounters

with each other in social interaction” (p. 13). Accordingly, it can be seen that Berger and

Luckmann (1966) understood individual realisations of self, an identity, emerged from

interactions with others. As Burr (2003) explained, “our identity is constructed out of the

discourses culturally available to us, and which we draw upon in our communications

with other people” (p. 107). This places language, identity and materiality as prime

considerations in Berger and Luckmann’s (1966) theory. As Berger and Luckmann

(1966) stated,

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Language is capable not only of constructing symbols that are highly abstracted from

everyday experience, but also of ‘bringing back‘ these symbols and presenting them as

objectively real elements in everyday life. In this manner, symbolism and symbolic

language become essential constituents of the reality of everyday life and of the

common-sense apprehension of this reality. (p. 55)

Additionally, social constructionism reflects diversity and difference. As Van Krieken et

al. (2014) explained, “our world is an intersubjective one with our actions orientated

towards other human beings” (p. 313). Consequently, Berger and Luckmann’s (1966)

emphasis on interactivity provides a valuable tool to explore materiality and identity.

Introduction to Identity Theory

The construct of identity is complex and problematic. For me, identity’s complexity

reflects its multiplicity; its problematisation, the nexus of our worldview experiences

captured within academic theoretical constructs. How can the dynamics of identity be

captured with the static written word? My confusion is a symptom of the vast array of

identity literature within both the academic and popular domains. I am challenged by the

task of encapsulating identity as both a dynamic experience and as a theoretical and

operational construct (see the section on “Conceptual Framework” in this chapter, below).

Illustrating identity’s complexity is its definition. Identity derives from the Latin word

“‘idem’ […] the same” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 2017, para. 12). Sameness

promotes its opposite, difference. Consequently, sameness and difference are seminal

concepts within identity and contribute to the contested nature of identity. Sociologically,

Vryan (2007) noted that identity

defines people in social terms; they depend upon shared meanings and situate their

bearers within variously structured and enduring sets of social relations. If a person is

believed to belong to particular categories of persons, the meanings and expectations

attached to those categories are presumed to be relevant to the person. (para. 4).

Recognising the contested nature of identity, Buckingham (2008) cautioned that it could

be a vague and amorphous construct. MacKinnon and Heise (2010) noted that individuals

are “inundated with diverse identifications arising from wide-ranging affiliations,

excursions to local and remote places, electronic messaging to far-flung others” (p. 49).

Identity contestation is particularly highlighted when it is linked to race. As Vargas and

Kingsbury (2016) pointed out, “race, as a system of stratification is socially experienced

in accord with others’ perceptions. Notably, the racial group/s that one self-identifies with

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does not always align with how they are perceived racially by others” (p. 718). In drawing

attention to identity’s contestation, Vargas and Kingsbury (2016) also highlighted the

point that identity involves the interpretive positioning of others. Identity therefore is not

only about how we perceive ourselves, but also how others perceive us.

Adding to this knowledge are my own experiences of identity. I have multiple identities.

They have changed over time and throughout this thesis. Some of my identities, such as

New Zealander and Kiwi, have been self-ascribed. My coming out as a gay man reflected

my own realisation of self and the acceptance of one identity. Others have ascribed

identity to me, including Pākehā (from my GP) and Godfather (from friends with family).

Ascribed identity began when I was a baby with my birth certificate identifying me as a

baby boy.

This section explores identity theory as a social construction. Like other constructions,

knowing about identity aids our understanding and negotiation of our lived experiences.

In this way, my research not only explores identity theory, but also my participants’

experiences and their dynamics of identity (see Chapter 6: Findings, and Chapter 7:

Discussion and Conclusion).

To address these problems and complexities within identity, I present an overview of two

theoretical perspectives that I term base concepts: Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) social

identity theory and Stryker’s (1980) identity theory. These theories are important to my

research because they recognise identity’s dynamism and provide a base from which I

can explore intersectionality (Crenshaw, 1991). As I have come to understand them, these

theories encompass the transitions of identity that my participants have experienced.

Moreover, they help explain that identity is a key element in the social construction of

reality (Harrington, 2005) and my own changing identity. Recognising my belief that

identity integrates a multiplicity of being, I update my base concepts by considering

intersectionality (Crenshaw, 1991; Collins & Bilge, 2016). The combination of base

concepts and intersectionality addresses my own dilemma about dynamic identities and

static literature because intersectionality opens up identity’s vibrant diversity to wider

exploration.

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Base Concept 1: Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) Social Identity Theory

Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) social identity theory recognises that individuals have multiple

selves that align to different group ‘memberships’. In this way, social identity theory

explains constructs within identifiers that include, but are not limited to, gender, ethnicity,

class and religion. Consequently, social identity theory stresses group commonality.

Through constructed and communicated commonality, individuals form social groups.

Groups prompt behaviours relative to their shared identity (Tajfel & Turner, 1979). This

explains why the same person may identify and act differently in different situations.

Social identity theory’s emphasis on shared ways of being in a group dynamic creates

group dualities (Tajfel & Turner, 1979). These dualities incorporate group belonging:

those sharing the same identity (in-groups), and those who do not (out-groups).

Consequently, in-group and out-groups (see Table 3, below) facilitate ways of knowing

about ‘us’ (in-groups) and ‘them’ (out-groups). Social identity theory therefore mediates

the collective identity of individuals as well as recognising an individual’s idiosyncrasies.

This was realised in Tajfel’s (1972) remark that an individual knows “that he [sic] belongs

to certain social groups together with some emotional value significance to him [sic] of

this group membership” (p. 292), which simultaneously reinforces individuality and

group belonging.

Table 3: Facilitating in-group and out-group perceptions within social identity theory.

Classification Meaning and Action

Social categorisation

(a cognitive domain)

We classify people in order to identify and understand them. Individuals

inhabit multiple classifications.

Social identification

(an evaluative domain)

We adopt the identity of the group we belong to and act accordingly. This

promotes an emotional link with identity.

Social comparison

(an emotional domain)

In recognising our own group (in-group), we recognise others (out-groups).

Such recognitions reinforce prejudice and feelings of in-group superiority.

Note. Adapted from Tajfel and Turner (1986).

Yet, in recognising identity via group belonging, Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) social

identity theory also asserts differences between groups (see Table 4, “Key themes in

social identity theory”, below).

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Table 4: Key themes in social identity theory.

Key Theme Meaning/Relevance

Subjective belief structures Group beliefs about other groups ... out-groups.

Status

Stability

Legitimacy

Permeability

How is the group I belong to perceived relative to out-groups?

How stable is the relationship between ‘my’ group and out-groups?

How legitimate is that relationship?

How easy is it for group members to change and join the out-group?

Cognitive alternatives Is a different relationship possible between in-groups and out-groups?

Social mobility

Social change

Social creativity

Cognitive alternatives

Social competition

Is it easy for members of lower status groups to move upward?

Suggests that it is hard for lower status group member to move up.

Therefore they engage creatively in redefining group relationships.

A critical stance challenging the legitimacy of dominant groups.

Targeted status competition with out-groups. This can “range from debate,

through protest to revolution and war” (Hogg, 2016, p. 8).

Note. Adapted from Tajfel and Turner (1979) and Hogg (2016).

These differences include the social status ascribed to groups. Social identity theory

recognises that individuals may aspire to change group membership particularly if that

change holds higher identity status potential. In this way, Tajfel and Turner’s (1979)

social identity theory recognises the fluidity of identity as well as the choice and chance

opportunities influencing identity in everyday life. As a result, social identity theory

incorporates the potential for identity change. Such change and enhanced identity status

are important because, as Webber, McKinley and Hattie (2013) pointed out, “the social

groups to which we belong help define who we are and thus constitute an essential part

of our self” (p. 18). Facilitating this, Moran and Sussman (2014) suggested, are the

prototypes that individuals possess for these groups:

These prototypes are essentially cognitive representations of the group norms – that is,

what it means to be a group member. As individuals identify more strongly with a group,

social identity theory posits that he or she is more likely to act in accordance with a

relevant in-group prototype. (p. 1058)

Over time, Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) theory has matured and been adapted by others. Its

longevity reflects Tajfel’s (1969) interest in and concern for conflict, discrimination and

prejudice and how these issues remain contemporarily important. Of special note in the

adaptation of this theory is the point that, during the 1980s, social identity theory

emphasised how prototypes generated the base knowledge for stereotypes and the social

identity of groups (Turner, Hogg, Oakes, Reicher, & Weatherall, 1987; Abrams & Hogg,

2010).

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Additionally, the work conducted in the late 1990s and early 2000s realised the

uncertainty of identity by recognising the negative attributes of identity (Hogg, 2007,

2012). This contrasted Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) earlier emphasis on identity positivity.

As Hogg (2016) noted, this theoretical change reflected what he called ‘uncertainty-

identity theory’. For Hogg (2016), and other followers of social identity theory, identity

uncertainty was “based on the premise that feeling uncertain about our world and in

particular how to behave and how others will behave can be unsettling” (p. 10). In these

ways, Hogg’s (2007, 2012, 2016) observations and additions to social identity theory

reflected its dynamic and enduring nature. Consequently, since its initial formulation,

Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) theory’s relevance to contemporary identities and research has

remained potent.

Base Concept 2: Stryker’s (1980) Identity Theory

Stryker’s (1980) identity theory sought to “bridge the social structure and person and must

be able to move from the level of the person to that of large scale social structure and

back again” (p. 53). Stryker (1980) achieved this within the construct of identity role. He

emphasised how roles were integrated into wider socio-cultures and so reflected the

dynamic nature of individuals within structural bounds. It was within the tension between

individuals and structure, however, that Stryker (1980) realised ‘identity’: that tension

created “an image of the person as a structure of positions and roles, which, internalised,

is the self” (p. 79). In order to understand that tension, Stryker (1980) conceived the

notion of identity salience, a reflection of the multiple identities of each individual. These

identities are arranged hierarchically creating a salient range of identity possibilities. As

Stryker (1980) noted, “the higher the identity in [the] hierarchy the more likely that the

identity will be invoked in a given situation or many situations” (p. 61). Complementing

this was Stryker’s (1980) construct of identity commitment. Reflecting his observation

that “one is committed to being that kind of person” (p. 61), Stryker (1980) realised how

identity influenced our relationships with other people. That suggestion reflected an

earlier observation that “actors within the social structure name one another, in the sense

that they recognise each other as occupants of positions, and in naming one another

invoke expectations with respect to one another’s behaviour” (Stryker, 1968, p. 559). It

is at this point that Stryker’s (1980) theory overlaps with Tajfel and Turner’s (1979).

Stryker’s (1980) commitment to the idea of “being that kind of person” (p. 61) aligned

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individuals to group belonging through commonality and/or difference. In doing so,

Stryker (1980) extended Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) theory by recognising group

membership as well as its dynamic social construction. As Stryker and Burke (2000)

acknowledged “social identity theory has focused attention on category-based identities

(e.g., as black or white, Christian or Jew), [whereas] identity theory has focused primarily

on role-based identities (e.g., parent or child, teacher or student)” (p. 293).

More recently, Stets and Burke (2014) observed that there have been “major advances in

identity theory” (p. 57) since Stryker (1980) first put forward his position. Specifically,

Stets and Burke (2014) identified that “perpetual control systems” (p. 61) and “sign

meanings” (p. 63), and individual responses to them, and a “new conceptualisation of

multiple identities” (p. 72) have come to represent the theory’s contemporary advances.

These domains are explored in Table 5, below.

As base concepts, the theories of Tajfel and Turner (1979) and Stryker (1980) provide my

research with a solid and complementary base from which I can explore Crenshaw’s

(1991) intersectionality. I understand that Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) and Stryker’s (1980)

emphasis on the social construction of identity align not only with social interactionism

(Mead, 1934), but are empathetically placed within Crenshaw’s (1991) intersectionality.

Table 5: Key themes advancing identity theory.

“Perpetual control systems” (Stets &

Burke, 2014, p. 61).

Meaning conveyed within identity was more important than

the identity itself. People adapt behaviours to match their

identity standards. The gap between behaviour and

perception opened identity up to deeper scrutiny.

“Sign meanings” (Stets & Burke, 2014,

p. 63).

Humans are “more than symbols or carriers of symbols;

people also use and are sustained by signs” (Stets & Burke,

2014, p. 64). Some signs are responses to automatic actions

rather than signs in themselves. Stets and Burke (2014) give

the example of the experience of close seating in economy

airlines.

“New conceptualisation of multiple

identities” (Stets & Burke, 2014, p. 72)

This development opened up Stryker’s (1980) salience

hierarchy of identities by introducing a more fluid construct

of identity. While salience is theoretically important, its

implication within identity has become more dynamic.

Note. Adapted from Stets and Burke (2014).

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Intersectionality and Identity

Intersectionality began its journey to academic acceptance through the writings and

research of Kimberlé Crenshaw (1991). Crenshaw (1991) explored “the race and gender

dimensions of violence against women of colour, … [particularly their] battering and

rape” (pp. 1242-1243). In doing so, Crenshaw found that to adequately explore those

domains she needed to use a wider lens of understanding than the simple binaries that

race and gender permitted, albeit those categories in themselves constituted a distinct

social position for black women. Consequently, Crenshaw (1991) widened academic

thinking through her construct of intersectionality. She recognised the multiple

considerations of intersectionality by exploring and explaining the myriad of factors that

influenced her participants’ experiences of violence. In these ways, she demonstrated that

power dynamics not only affected violence for women of colour, but they were also

inherent to many other minority identities. Therefore, intersectionality not only

recognised the composite ‘parts of being’ but also the umbrella of power relations under

which identity and ‘being’ function (Crenshaw, 1991). McCall (2005) claimed that

intersectionality was the most important contribution made to the academy by women’s

related studies. Considering that claim, Shields (2008) and Brah and Phoenix (2013)

proposed that intersectionality not only combined multiple constructs of being but

actively recognised their inseparable bond within socio-culture. Therefore,

intersectionality explores and exposes the strengths of the diversity within minority

groups that contribute toward a person’s being in the world. This makes intersectionality

an important tool in understanding identity.

Intersectionality embraces identity’s social construction, providing a logical stepping-

stone from my base concept theories of identity. As Diamond and Butterworth (2008)

noted, “theories of intersectionality help make sense of this experience [of being

transgendered] by emphasising how all subjective experiences of selfhood are continually

transformed, re-enacted and renegotiated as a function of shifting landscapes of social

context” (p. 375).

Intersectionality opens up research by refocusing away from class-based constructs

toward “the complex interweaving of diverse social inequalities which shape individual

lives” (Giddens & Sutton, 2013, p. 489). In these ways, as Corlett and Mavin (2014)

suggested, intersectionality simultaneously recognised, embraced and empowered

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“multiple and mutually constitutive social identities … [that] intersect in complex ways

and that individuals construct” (p. 262). Collins and Bilge (2016) suggested that most

scholars would agree that intersectionality

is a way of understanding and analysing the complexities in the world, in people, and in

human experiences. The events and conditions of social and political life and the self

can seldom be understood as [being] shaped by one factor. They are generally shaped

by many factors in diverse and mutually influencing ways. (p. 2)

Consequently, Crenshaw’s (1991) intersectionality is important to the academy, and to

this research, because as Collins and Bilge (2016) posit, intersectionality “draws links

between individual identity and collective identity” (p. 83) within an awareness of the

social structures impacting each domain. That awareness includes intersectionality’s

considerations of “social inequality, power, relationality, social context, complexity and

social justice” (p. 64).

As I have come to understand it, it is these very factors that impact my own participants’

lives, identities and contributions to this research. Consequently, I include

intersectionality’s praxis within this research (see the “Conceptual framework” section in

this chapter, below). It is my position that intersectionality reflects the diverse multiplicity

of identity experiences that in turn reflects individual identities in larger social identity

structures.

Despite these strengths, intersectionality has a number of limitations. These are outlined

in Table 6.

Table 6: Limitations of intersectionality.

● Intersectionality is category orientated.

● There are complexities for researchers which “result from the infinite lists of differences” and their

subsequent analysis and recognition (Corlett & Mavin, 2014, p. 270).

● Intersectionality treats “all differences equally” (Corlett & Mavin, 2014, p. 270).

● The systematic approach to intersectionality by researchers may limit its ability to respond to

complexity.

Note. Adapted from Corlett and Mavin (2014).

Theories of Material Culture

Seymour-Smith (1986) defined material culture as “the sum or inventory of the

technology and material artefacts of a human group, including those elements related to

subsistence activities as well as those which are produced for ornamental, artistic or ritual

purposes” (p. 183). For Woodward (2007) material culture explored “how apparently

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inanimate things [objects, artefacts] within the environment act on people, and are acted

upon by people, for the purposes of carrying out social functions, regulating social

relations and giving symbolic meaning to human activity” (p. 3). As Crane and Bovone

(2006) recommended in their research on fashion, material culture can be explored in the

following five ways:

By exploring material culture as text expressing ways of being within cultures.

In considering how materiality and its meaning are conveyed through media.

By asking how collective meaning is conveyed within cultures through material items.

In considering how people negotiate their own meanings of materiality cognisant of

“the symbolic values attributed to material culture by producers of material culture”

(p. 319).

By exploring, in different locations, “cross-national studies of symbolic values

expressed in material goods and of the systems that produce them in order to reveal

differences in the types of symbolic values” (p. 319).

Bringing together the positions of Crane and Bovone (2006) and Woodward (2007)

means recognising that within vernacular experiences, people in general and researchers

in particular have “increasingly acknowledge[d] the embeddedness of ‘things’” (Clarke,

2014, p. 17). Consequently, the symbolic meaning of an item reflects the relationship

between it and people. That has been recognised within other material culture research

including the work of Kidron (2012) and Woodward (2015).

Inherent within these realisations is the suggestion that the study of material culture may

be best suited to qualitative inquiry. However, quantitative research methods can equally

inform our understandings of material culture, such as through the measurement of

feelings and emotions associated with a material item. Data gathered in that way may

reflect a Likert-style research tool. Similarly, as noted in Lubar and Kingery’s (2013)

research exploring antique coffee pots, the pots’ measured dimensions provided readers

with a deeper insight into the pots’ physicality. Similarly, Tucker’s (2011) exploration of

coffee culture during the French Revolution revealed that coffee (as a material item) and

coffee houses (as venues of consumption) “provided the city’s sole social context in

which different socioeconomic classes, and both men and women, interacted on an equal

basis” (p. 56).

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Material culture links materiality and its understanding to an appreciation of how people

make sense of their world. That understanding links materiality to Berger and

Luckmann’s (1966) social construction of reality. Reflecting that link, Hicks (2010)

proposed that material culture bridges the gap between ‘things’ and being human. Within

material culture theory that gap is filled by the concept of actancy. Actancy reflects the

dynamism between ‘things’ and people (Giddens & Sutton, 2013). On that basis, material

items have biographies reflecting their actancy and their imbued symbolic meanings

(Appadurai, 1986; Kopytoff, 1986). However, as a theoretical construct, actancy can be

traced back to Latour’s (1993) actor–network theory. In recognising how scallop farmers’

lives were impacted by the needs of the scallops they farmed, Latour (1993) recognised

both biography and actancy.

It is within these considerations that this research recognises the importance of material

culture theory. Kiwiana, as C. Bell (2012a) noted, is imbued with symbolic meaning,

actualised in many aspects of Kiwi identity. Describing her home decoration with Crown

Lynn ceramics, this participant in C. Bell’s (2012b) research illustrates this point:

I am re-creating an idealised New Zealand childhood. I wanted a 1950s place, and to

fill it with 1950s things. When I go there it’s like acting out a fantasy about family

holidays there, decades ago. It’s like I’ve bought myself a national back-story or

autobiography in material form. Whatever happens in the future, it is my own little

world, even though it is modelled on myths about another world, 1950s New Zealand.

(p. 422)

Meaning and Myth

My foray into semiotics began with my reading of Yakin and Totu’s (2014) comparative

study of Peirce and de Saussure. De Saussure’s emphasis on language promoted my

deeper appreciation that semiotics mediated both language and signs. In turn, this

reinforced my realisation of the connections between social constructionism, identity and

materiality.

As Berger and Luckmann (1966) recognised, language as a sign/symbol is the tool most

commonly shared and used by people to make sense of their world. Language is essential

in forming the worldviews that, under academic analysis, knowledge explicates. Because

English is a second language for all my research participants, I understood that de

Saussure and Peirce’s positions were unsuitable. Nevertheless, de Saussure and Peirce’s

research prompted my exploration of myth theory. The following section therefore

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explores myth theory through Barthes (1967, 1973), D. Bell (2003), Campbell (1988),

Cassirer (1923/1955, 1925/1955, 1929/1957, 1944, 1946), Levi-Strauss (1981), and

Malinowski (1926/1954). Two key themes within semiotic interpretation are also relevant

to my writing: denotation and connotation.

Denotation and Connotation: Base Understandings

While discussing denotation and connotation, Chandler (2017) observed that “it was not

only meanings that were questionable, but that all interpretation was questionable” (p.

147). This opens up meaning to a wider interrogation, reflecting the essence of semiotic

analysis: that the process of analysis is an ongoing yet socio-temporally located

phenomenon. This point is key to my choice of mythscape (D. Bell, 2003) as a medium

to explicate myth.

These terms, denotation and connotation, are often described “in terms of levels of

representation, meaning or semiosis” (Chandler, 2017, p. 165). Denotation is the literal

meaning of a word as found in a dictionary (Martin & Ringham, 2006). Connotation

reflects the additional contextual meanings that sit alongside a word’s literal meaning.

Connotation holds specific relevance to culture and meanings within that culture (Martin

& Ringham, 2006). This reflects Voloshinov’s (1973) suggestion “that no division can be

made between denotation and connotation because referential meaning is moulded by

evaluation” (p. 105). Table 7, below, presents denotative and connotative perspectives

from Barthes (1967, 1973), Chandler (2017), Silverman (1983) and Voloshinov (1973).

Table 7: Denotation and connotation.

Denotation

“Definitional, literal, obvious, elementary,

common-sense” (Chandler, 2017, p. 162).

Connotation

Cultural codes with symbolic attributes

(Silverman, 1983; Chandler, 2017).

Both comprise “levels of representation meaning or semiosis” (Chandler, 2017, p. 165).

“Connotation produces the illusion of denotation” (Barthes, 1967, p. 9).

“That no division can be made between denotation and connotation because referential meaning is

moulded by evaluation” (Voloshinov, 1973, p. 105).

“For Barthes (1967), connotation involves the translation of the sign into other signs and denotation

leads to a chain of connotations” (Chandler, 2017, p. 166).

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Socio-temporal variable (Chandler, 2017, pp. 162,

165):

“Informational function”.

“Depiction”.

“Broadly agreed by members of the same culture”.

“Conventional”.

Socio-temporal variable (Chandler, 2017, p. 162):

“Aesthetic function”.

Cultural/sub-cultural meanings (Chandler, 2017,

pp. 163-165):

“Requires knowledge of social context”.

“Tend to support cultural stereotypes”.

“Looser, subtle ... ambiguous”.

Barthes (1981, 2000) situated myth within connotation more so than denotation, or

“higher orders of signification” (Chandler, 2017, p. 172). For Barthes (1981, 2000),

“myths are the dominant ideologies of our time” (Chandler, 2017, p. 173), emerging from

the connotative aspects of meaning of the sign or object. Nevertheless, it is connotation

and denotation that are important to my writing because my participant PhotoVoice

images are read in multiple ways.

Myth: An Introduction

The Collins Concise Dictionary (1999) defined myths as stories “about superhuman

beings of an earlier age, usually of how natural phenomena, social customs … came into

existence, another word for mythology … a person or thing whose existence is fictional

or unproven” (p. 976). However, what this definition does not convey is that writing on

myth is, like Kiwi identity, has been dominated by maleness. The authors I explore in the

following sections are men. Consequently, in my literature review and now in discussing

myth, I acknowledge that bias in my research.

Cassirer (1972) encapsulated myths as forms of knowledge and philosophy reflecting an

ontological and epistemological symbiosis:

Myth is non-theoretical in its very meaning and essence. It defies and challenges our

fundamental categories of thought. Its logic – if there is any logic – is incommensurate

with all our conceptions of empirical or scientific truth. But philosophy could never

admit such a bifurcation. It was convinced that the creations of the myth-making

function must have a philosophical, an understandable ‘meaning’. If myth hides this

meaning under all sorts of images and symbols, it became the task of philosophy to

unmask it. (p. 73)

Ruthven (1976) noted myth’s “obscurity … [and] protean form” (p. 1) and how ambiguity

clouded a clear and concise definition. While that description alerts us to consider that

the social customs and meanings of myths are points of cultural reference (Engels-

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Schwarzpaul, 2001), they are nonetheless grounded in fiction. Righter (as cited in

Sterenberg, 2013) proposed that myth “has become a kind of intellectual shorthand which

has gained acceptance as standing for an elusive, almost unanalysable, amalgam of

beliefs, attitudes and feelings” (p. 147). While myth’s meaning, relevance, socio-

temporality and primordial associations reflect its contested nature, within Western

worldview schemas, myths are important socio-cultural markers. This is especially valid

in Aotearoa New Zealand. To illuminate this, consider the meaning and relevance of the

Tane Mahuta3 myth for pre-European Māori and then for contemporary Pākehā. For early

Māori, this myth was a potent reminder of te ao Māori and the interconnection of all

things. For contemporary Pākehā, with worldviews tempered by scientific knowledge,

this myth may reflect themes of eco-awareness and sustainability. For both groups, this

myth is a metaphor reflecting how the dynamism of language and the reconfiguration of

meaning combine, socio-temporally, to make it contemporarily relevant to each group.

Therefore, cognisant of its contemporary relevance, this section of my theoretical

framework explores myth theory. I present a chronology of myth theory covering the

work of Cassirer (1923/1955, 1925/1955, 1929/1957, 1944, 1946), Malinowski

(1926/1954), Levi-Strauss (1981) Campbell (1988) and Barthes (1973), and my theorist

of choice, D. Bell (2003). Myths may also be confused with other narrative forms

including folktale, legend, fable and fairy-tale. Figure 2, below, distinguishes these forms.

3 Tane Mahuta: the soul of the forest; “the forest is Te Wao-tapu-nui a Tane (the vast sacred woods of Tane)

(Best, 2016, para. 1).

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Figure 2: Differentiating myth, legend, folktales, fables and fairytales.

Note. Adapted from Arlington Classics Academy (2017), Harper (2017) and Huber

(2013).

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A Chronology of Myth Theory

Cassirer’s (1923/1955, 1925/1955, 1929/1957) work integrated his interests in symbolic

systems, logic, philosophy and language. From his perspective, myth was important

because, as Engels-Schwarzpaul (2001) observed, these domains informed the world

rather than reflected it. Cassirer realised myth within a transcendental philosophical

framework (Renz, 2011) since myth could be best explored by considering its spiritual

and intuitive elements rather than its material and empirical components. Prior to World

War Two, Cassirer viewed myth positively, suggesting that it was a blend of cultural

formations (Renz, 2011).

Post-war, Cassirer changed direction and viewed myth negatively. Cassirer realised that

myth had been “abused by the actual techniques of politics” (Renz, 2011, p. 136) in the

rise of fascism. Exemplifying this, in The Myth of the State, Cassirer (1946) likened myth

to contemporary imaginary beasts that potentialised society’s fall into disorder. That fall,

as Engels-Schwarzpaul (2001) noted, was realised by the Nazi movement’s emphasis on

the reinterpretation of myths that were designed to enhance their own political agendas.

Despite Cassirer’s changing views, his thinking bridged an important epistemological and

ontological gap because he made real the importance of myth within culture by

recognising that myth is integral to thinking and knowing.

Similarly, Malinowski (1926/1954) explored and extended myth theory. Myth, he

asserted,

Expresses, enhances, and codifies belief; it vouches for the efficiency of ritual and

contains practical rules for the guidance of man. Myth is thus a vital ingredient of human

civilisation … a pragmatic charter of primitive faith and moral wisdom. (p. 101)

Malinowski (1926/1954) encouraged researchers to look beyond the text of their

observations for the subtleties of importance experienced by the participants themselves.

In this way, he prompted researchers to take “cue[s] from the natives” (p. 104). Bascom

(1983) proposed that Malinowski (1926/1954) explored the ways in which “myths,

legends, and folktales, as well as magic, function[ed] as a psychological escape from the

repressions imposed by society” (p. 171). For Malinowski (1926/1954), myth was

important because he perceived that it bridged the “intimate connection [that] exists

between the word, the mythos, the sacred tales of a tribe, on the one hand, and their ritual

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acts, their moral deeds, their social organization, and even their practical activities on the

other” (p. 78).

More recently, Levi-Strauss (1981) proposed that

myths teach us a great deal about the societies from which they originate, they help us

lay bare their inner workings and clarify the raison d’etre of belief, customs and

institutions, the organisation of which was at first slightly incomprehensible; lastly and

most importantly they [myths] make it possible to discover operational modes of the

human mind, which have remained so consistent over the centuries, and are so

widespread … that we assume them to be fundamental. (p. 639)

Levi-Strauss (1981) conceived myth as a potent story, synchronically grounded in

structural linguistics and anthropology (Jary & Jary, 2000), particularly kinship (Klages,

2013). He was particularly interested in the similarities between myths around the world,

while acknowledging they were located within opposing constructs. Levi-Strauss (1981)

realised myth within de Saussurean concepts of langue and parole. He linked langue and

parole to what he called “reversible time [and] non-reversible time” (Klages, 2013, para.

11). For Levi-Strauss langue, as language structure, existed in the “past, present or future”

(para. 11). Parole, the actual speech act, can only exist in the here and now, the spoken

moment (Klages, 2013). Consequently, for Levi-Strauss (1981), langue constituted

myth’s timelessness, whereas parole constituted its history. Also important to Levi-

Strauss (1981) was myth’s malleability. Myths cannot be “translated, paraphrased,

reduced, expanded or otherwise manipulated without losing their basic shape or structure”

(Klages, 2013, para. 12). Consequently, Levi-Strauss (1981) understood that myths

provided a contemporary bridge linking being human to the contradictions inherent in

humanity.

For Joseph Campbell, “myth is the artistic expression of psychological life” (Young,

2005, para. 5), a way to explore consciousness. He observed the connection between

ancient stories/myths “and the emotional concerns of modern life” (Young, 2005, para.

12). Exemplifying this, Campbell (as cited in Chalquist, 2015) observed “the latest

incarnation of Oedipus, the continued romance of Beauty and The Beast, stand[ing] this

afternoon on the corner of 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue, waiting for the lights to change”

(para. 5). In this way, Campbell (1988) popularised myth in its contemporary application

and relevance to everyday life and everyday people. Campbell’s (as cited in Young, 2005)

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theoretical perspectives on myth reflected Van Gennep’s4 triadic matrix of the rites of

passage. Departure, transformation and return were important transformational steps

within myth that Campbell recognised as seminal to myth’s impact and longevity. In his

exploration of myth, Campbell revealed “why societies must have heroes in incarnate

values upon which a nation or world order survives or dies” (as cited in Young, 2005,

para. 8) and realised the ontological and epistemological importance of myth within the

metaphysical, cosmological, sociological functionality of culture.

In Mythologies, Roland Barthes (1973) realised “contemporary capitalist culture as a

commodity culture” (Danesi, 2018, p. 490). He commented that commodification

generated the desire for “new books, new programmes, new films, new items, but always

the same meaning” (Barthes, 1973, p. 24). Consequently, and with application to myth,

Barthes (1973) drew attention to the potency of ‘new things’. Specifically, he promoted

the potency of newness in the reconstruction of the past, contemporaneously positioned

in the present (Barthes, 1973). As Woodward (2007) noted, Barthes (1973) was

“important because he was the first to systematically consider the symbolic meaning of

material culture within advanced consumer societies” (p. 68). Barthes (1973) suggested

that myths should be questioned and he considered that many myths within contemporary

French culture supported middle-class French values. Because of their potency, those

values generated wider systems of value. Allen (2003) called these “sign[s] of universal

value” (p. 36). Barthes (1973) perceived that universal values were passively accepted

and therefore must be questioned. Exemplifying this, Barthes (1973) suggested that

drinking French wine connoted being French and thus inferred a myriad of taken-for-

granted ‘values’ within that French-ness. Consequently, Barthes aimed to “see through

myths and the contemporary images supporting them” (Allen, 2003, p. 38). Barthes

(1973) proposed that

myth is a system of communication, that is a message … a mode of signification … a

type of speech … conveyed by a discourse. Myth is not defined by the object of its

message, but by the way in which it utters this message (p. 117).

4 In discussing rites of passage Van Gennep (1960/2017) identified three stages of progression: segregation,

where the initiate is “stripped of their identity” (para. 3); a “liminal state of transition” (para. 2), where the

initiate is between their previous state of being and their next state of becoming; and “reintroduction” (para.

2), where the initiate is reintroduced back into the socio-culture renewed.

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Barthes (1973) opened up the construct of myth by proposing that everything can be a

myth if it contains a meaning or a message. To appreciate Barthes’ (1973) position on

myth, it is important to understand how he viewed their theoretical construction. Allen

(2003) encapsulated this understanding within the triad of sign, signifier and signified.

As Allen (2003) noted in discussing a photo-image of the English Queen Mother’s

funeral:

A newspaper picture of crowds waiting to see the coffin of the Queen Mother is a first-

order sign: signifier = the photographic image of crowds, signified = the crowds that

waited to see the Queen Mother lying in state, sign = press reportage of a topical event

which we might gloss as ‘large crowds have queued for hours to see the Queen Mother

lying in state’. Mythology raises the image to a second order level, however, turning

that sign into a signifier for a new signified and thus a new sign: ‘the unified, British

public or nation or the British people’s love of (acceptance of) the monarchy’. (p. 43)

Diagrammatically, Barthes’ (1973) construct of myth as second-order sign, as explained

by Allen (2003), is presented in Table 8, below.

Table 8: Myth as second-order meaning.

Note. Adapted from Allen (2003).

Allen’s (2003) observations not only exemplify myth within a photo-image but also

reveal Barthes’ (1973) realisation that myth represents a second-level sociological

system. As Barthes (1973) observed,

2. Signified: On-going

acceptance of Monarchy

1. Signifier: Unified British

public

ii. SIGNIFIED:

1st order = crowds waiting to

see the Queens body

i. SIGNIFIER:

1st order sign = photo-image of

crowds

iii. SIGN:

Death of the Queen Mother

L

a

n

g

u

a

g

e

M

Y

T

H

The signifier (i, below ) as first order sign is

turned into a new sign that holds its own

signification (above)

3. Sign 2nd order

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The signifier in such a system is already a complete sign that already contains a signifier

and a signified. The signified is ‘added on top’ of that existing structure, so we get a

sign of double complexity which is a myth. (p. 114)

This ‘layering’ makes our understanding and deciphering of myth meaning a complex

activity. As Barthes (1973) clarified, “myth distorts the meaning of the original sign: it is

no longer what it was ... but something else ... myth clearly sends a message, and this is

intentional” (pp. 122, 125). For Barthes, “myths are the dominant ideologies of our time”

(Chandler, 2017, p. 173). This aligns Barthes’ concepts of myth to the wider domain of

an individual’s intersectional being, because the myth’s message is bound within wider

socio-temporal and cultural understandings.

Mythscape (D. Bell, 2003) adds to Appadurai’s (1986) previously established ‘scape’

constructs. Mythscape blends the fictive realms of kiwiana, myth and Kiwi identity in a

continuum of history, time, place and space. In these ways, D. Bell’s (2003) mythscape

“temporally and spatially extend[s the] discursive realm” (p. 64) within a top-down

model. That top-down model, according to the view I take in this research, reinforces an

existing Pākehā hegemony. According to Mayer (2011), D. Bell’s spatiality reflected

“collapse[d] time by connecting the distant past to the present through a common space”

(p. 51). That connection, in my work, is actualised by the conflation of settler

characteristics hewn within a bucolic settler paradise yet actualised within contemporary

being. That conflation occurs over time. It adds to the temporal nature of D. Bell’s

mythscape.

Yet, because D. Bell (2003) opens up myth with the use of the suffix ‘-scape’ and

positions myth as mutable, this mutability is reflected in a dynamic mythscape.

Explaining this, D. Bell noted that

historical representation is built in to the formation and constant re-negotiation of

identity, for this never-ending process requires the location and embedding of the self

or group within a matrix of other fluid identities, all of which are likewise partially

framed by and constituted through temporally extended representations of themselves

in relation to others. (p. 70)

Additionally, D. Bell (2003) realised that memory within individual and collective

identities formed an important mythscape component:

This approach understands memory to be a socially-framed property of individual

minds, and (following from this) collective memory – or what is more accurately

referred to as collective remembrance – to be the product of individuals (or groups of

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individuals) coming together to share memories of particular events, of time past. As

such, memory can be externalized only through multiple acts of remembrance, through

social interaction. (p. x)

As Mayer (2011) commented, “[D.] Bell seeks to draw distinctions between memory and

myth – he asserts that memory is only experiential, and that it enters into the communal

conception of the past through mythologizing in a space known as the mythscape” (p.

12). Consequently, D. Bell’s (2003) suggestion is that myth be understood as a

story that simplifies, dramatizes and selectively narrates the story of a nation’s past and

its place in the world, its historical eschatology: a story that elucidates its contemporary

meaning through (re)constructing its past. Furthermore, myths … subsume all of the

various events, personalities, traditions, artefacts and social practices that (self) define

the nation and its relation to the past, present, and future. Myths are constructed, they

are shaped, whether by deliberate manipulation and intentional action, or perhaps

through the particular resonance of works of literature and art. (p. 75)

Additionally, D. Bell (2003) proposed two types of myth: governing and – borrowing

from the language of Spivak (1994) – subaltern myth. Governing myths reinforce and

represent dominating narratives whereas subaltern myths challenge dominating myth

narratives within alternate myths (D. Bell, 2003). Subaltern myths, according to D. Bell,

are “capable of generating their own traditions and stories” (p. 74). In this way, and

cognisant of the link between myth and identity, D. Bell’s mythscape potentialises myth

as a “site of struggle” (Cohen, 2012, p. 141).

Finally, D. Bell (2003) positioned myth spatially, commenting that

time and place combine and are encoded in nationalist representational strategies,

shaping the feelings of community and the construction of an inside/outside distinction,

framing national identity in terms of a story about history and (a specific, often

imagined) location. … [The mythscape] is grounded in institutions and shaped by ever-

present and evolving power-relations. (p. 76)

It has been the combination of these factors that has influenced my choice of D. Bell’s

(2003) mythscape as a dynamic model that I carry forward into my conceptual

framework.

The Rhizome: An Overview

For me, Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) rhizome synthesises my theoretical positions by

providing a second refracting lens for my conceptual framework. In that way, the rhizome

creates a philosophical praxis within wider constructs of intersectionality that, combined,

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form the base of my conceptual framework. The vibrant nature of the rhizome reflects my

own understanding of how knowledge is generated and understood. Additionally, this

vibrancy is a key component in the dynamism of Tajfel and Turner (1979) and Stryker’s

(1980) theories of identity, and, the multiplicity and power dynamics within Crenshaw’s

(1991) intersectionality. These positions also highlight the importance of language in the

social construction of reality (Berger & Luckmann, 1966) which, in turn sits within

symbolic interactionism (Mead, 1934).

Deleuze and Guattari (1987) proposed the rhizome as a cooperative of dynamic yet

interconnected multiplicities facilitating a reconceptualisation of how it is possible to

perceive and understand a topic, object or thing. The rhizome’s potency reflects its ability

to realise interconnections between people and things. In this way, I perceive the rhizome

to be a precursor of intersectionality. The rhizome also encourages actancy in multiple

directions as a vector for change. These strengths and associations enhance the rigour and

thoroughness of my research.

Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) rhizome has six key characteristics. These include

cartography and decalcomania5, multiplicity, connection and heterogeneity and the

principle of the asignifying rupture. Table 9, below, presents these constructs and their

relevance to my research.

Table 9: Six characteristics of the rhizome.

Rhizome Construct Research Relevance

Cartography & decalcomania The rhizome is a map with multiple entry points. This is reflected in

my research emphasis on intersectionality.

Multiplicity The interaction between people and things creates a synergistic

multiplicity of possibility. Multiple realities and experiences

contribute to my research data, findings, interpretation and their

understanding.

Connection & heterogeneity A rhizome can connect at any two points. These points need not be

hierarchical. Literally, this opens up thinking laterally, a concept

suiting the qualitative nature of my research.

5 A function of the rhizome reflecting its ability to adapt.

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Asignifying rupture A rhizome may split or shatter at any point. However, parts of that

shattering/split start up again on new lines. As Lacey (2013) noted,

“an a-signifying rupture occurs when the signs that inform a space

momentarily disappear. Within this space there is a vacuum of

perception, which subjectivities instantaneously fill. As such, an a-

signifying rupture can be defined as an absence of signifiers from

which subjectivities emerge” (p. 76).

Note. Adapted from Deleuze and Guattari (1987).

However, underpinning these characteristics are themes of assemblage, lines of flight,

deterritorialisation and reterritorialisation (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987). I incorporate these

themes within my conceptual framework. I view the rhizome as a laterally spreading tool

of change and communication. Specifically, I operationalise the rhizome in ways that are

noted in Table 10, below.

Table 10: Applying the rhizome.

Theme Meaning and Research Relevance

Assemblage/multiplicity Assemblages are the connections between things (multiplicities)

Assemblage is territorial. Multiplicity invalidates a defined centre or

hierarchy, which generates lateral/alternate thinking. This reflects the

nomadic nature of the rhizome inasmuch as nomads “exist only in

becoming and in interaction” (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987, p. 430).

As Deleuze and Guattari (1987) noted, “there are no points or positions

in a rhizome, such as those found in a structure, tree or root” (p. 8).

“Assemblages are passional, they are compositions of desire” (p. 399).

Muller and Schurr (2016) parallel assemblage with actor-network

theory (Latour, 2005).

Lines of flight Lines of flight reflect transformational change and its new ways of

thinking about a topic.

Tillmanns, Holland, Lorenzi and McDonagh (2014) noted that “lines

of flight are acts of deterritorialisation” (p. 9).

Deterritorialisation Deleuze and Guattari (1987) proposed that deterritorialisation was “the

cutting edge of an assemblage” (p. 88), which produced change through

lines of flight.

For Deleuze and Guattari (1987) deterritorialisation circumvented

binary thinking by opening it up. Reterritorialisation incorporated the

restructuring, new thinking and power dynamics that occurred after

deterritorialisation.

Reterritorialisation

Note. Adapted from Deleuze and Guattari (1987), Latour (2005), and Muller and Schurr (2016).

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Conceptual Framework

Having established my theoretical framework in the preceding sections, this section

presents my conceptual framework. My conceptual framework recognises the best suited

parts of my theoretical framework that are most useful to my work. Consequently, my

research answers the question6 I posed for myself in my theoretical framework section by

realising the symbiotic nature of knowledge. In that way, within domains of epistemology

and ontology, my research blends the ‘existence of things with knowledge’ through my

participants’ understandings of Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Thus, my participants reveal

their insights into Laverty’s (2003) question: “What is the nature of the relationship

between the knower and what can be known?” (p. 26).

Ontology and Epistemology

To realise, in practical ways, the symbiosis of knowing and understanding knowledge, I

have come to appreciate that my own worldview, and that of others, are embodied and

enacted within two applied constructs: the social construction of reality (Berger &

Luckmann, 1966) and symbolic interactionism (Blumer, 1969). I draw a parallel between

these two perspectives because I propose that, in combination, and via interaction, they

facilitate a worldview. For me, symbolic interactionism and the social construction of

reality ‘fit’ and produce an appreciative understanding of how those involved in this

research see the world.

Before discussing these domains, however, I begin by presenting Figure 3, below a

diagrammatic representation of conceptual framework that will guide the following

sections.

6 How can we know about the existence of things without considering knowledge, and how can we consider

knowledge without existence?

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Figure 3: Contextual framework.

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Symbolic Interactionism

As a way to refine and understand symbolic interactionism my research incorporates its

three central tenets:

(1) Human beings act toward things on the basis of the meanings that the things have

for them. (2) The meaning of things is derived from, or arises out of, the social

interaction that one has with others. (3) Meanings are handled in, and modified through,

an interpretive process used by a person in dealing with the things he or she encounters

(Carter & Fuller, 2016, p. 934).

Specifically, symbolic interactionism and these three themes are useful to my research

because they expand my understanding and appreciation of how my participant groups

come, as individuals within groups, to perceive and negotiate being Kiwi and its

materiality, kiwiana. Also, as an applied theory within my conceptual framework,

symbolic interactionism promotes an interactive and iterative process mirroring what my

participants encounter in their everyday lives. In these ways, symbolic interactionism is

the process best reflecting my participants’ specific negotiation of Kiwi identity and

kiwiana. Symbolic interactionism also ties in with my chosen theoretical positions on

identity. That parallel incorporates the synergy generated between theories and the ways

in which each theory is complementary and, simultaneously, dynamic. Consequently,

symbolic interactionism is integral to my thesis. Symbolic interactionism reflects the

experiences of my participants and myself through our shared interactions, materiality

and its imbued meanings. In those ways symbolic interactionism is evidenced not only

within the symbols chosen by my participants but also within how those meanings were

conveyed to the researcher via humankinds most shared symbol, language.

Social Construction of Reality

My conceptual framework aligns symbolic interactionism and the social construction of

reality as the lens through which I, and my participant groups, perceive the world around

us, and therefore also how we perceive the research topic. In combination, these theories

exemplify my position that ontology and epistemology are in symbiosis. Therefore, the

social construction of reality is a primary theory within my conceptual framework. I

understand that two key themes in social constructionism are particularly important to my

research: language and identity.

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As Burr (2003) noted, “our identity is constructed out of the discourses culturally

available to us, and which we draw upon in our communications with other people” (p.

107). Consequently, I understand that it is within interaction, language and identity that

my participants’ and I come to know and make sense of our world and our experiences in

it. That makes the social construction of reality of primary importance within my

theoretical framework.

Base Concepts 1 & 2: Social Identity Theory, Identity Theory and Intersectionality

From my base concepts deriving from identity theories, my selection of the components

that best suit my work has been mediated by my consideration of how identity is woven

into wider themes. Specifically, I link identity theory and identity’s lived experience

within concepts of social constructionism (Berger & Luckmann, 1966) and symbolic

interactionism (Mead, 1934). These considerations have generated my realisation that the

fit of identity theory in my work is best actualised through the lens of Crenshaw’s (1991)

intersectionality. Additionally, later on in my research process I fine-tune my identity

concepts rhizomatically (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987). However, in the interim, from the

theories of Tajfel and Turner (1979), Stryker (1980) and Crenshaw (1991), I draw out the

constructs best suiting my research and present them in Table 11, below.

Table 11: Conceptualisations of identity theory and intersectionality.

Base Theory Conceptual Framework Themes

Tajfel and Turner

(1979)

Social Identity Theory

● The multiple self; group alignment; group dynamics.

● In-groups/out-groups, changing groups.

● Identity is a socially constructed.

Stryker (1980)

Identity Theory

● Recognises structure within being.

● Salience integrates social identity theories emphasis on dynamic identity.

● Recognises group belonging.

Crenshaw (1991)

Intersectionality

● Power dynamics and subjectivity of identity.

● Complexities within identity via composite parts of being.

● Recognises individual and group identity.

Note. Adapted from Crenshaw (1991), Tajfel and Turner 1979, and Stryker (1980).

In my research process, I filter the conceptual framework themes through Crenshaw’s

(1991) construct of intersectionality. Intersectionality, in my research, opens up my

participants’ identities in ways that reflect their individuality. Consequently, Crenshaw’s

(1991) lens enhances my understanding of how my participants perceive and come to

understand Kiwi identity and kiwiana.

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Conceptualisations of Materiality

For my conceptual framework I draw upon Smart Smith’s (1993, as cited in Taylor 2002,

p. 72) observation that

material objects matter because they are complex, symbolic bundles of social, cultural

and individual meanings fused into something that we can touch, see and own. That

very quality is the reason that social values can so quickly penetrate into and evaporate

out of common objects.

Into that understanding I integrate Hicks’ (2010) suggestion that material items are

important because they bridge the realms of the material, social and cultural expressions

of being within their actancy and imbued meaning. However, materiality, like identity, is

a contested domain because materiality, within its actancy and imbued meaning, is linked

to constructs of power, hierarchy, value and knowledge.

Exemplifying this, in Aotearoa New Zealand, C. Bell (2012b) asserted that items of Māori

materiality, Māoriana, were subcategories of kiwiana. Here, C. Bell (2012b) unwittingly

reinforced Pākehā primacy and implied Pākehā material superiority. While reinforcing

existing identity power structures, C. Bell (2012a, 2012b) also subtly implied that

contested material culture may potentialise a “site of struggle” (Cohen, 2012, p. 141).

Myth and Mythscapes

Through my exploration of myth theory, I have concluded that D. Bell’s (2003) concept

of mythscape is best suited to my conceptual framework. Mythscape is important to my

research because it links history and individual and collective memory to identity and

materiality. These domains are integral to my mythscape.

As noted above in relation to contested material culture, myth too remains a “site of

struggle” (Cohen, 2012, p. 141), and these domains also dynamically position mythscape

in my research. Dynamism suits my understandings of existing Kiwi myths and promotes

my exploration of new Kiwi myths by engaging with D. Bell’s (2003) subaltern construct.

Mythscape aligns to my participants because, as migrants, they are engaged in struggle.

That struggle is evidenced as they negotiate identity and materiality in their Kiwi

experiences, and as their realisations of myth may challenge existing myths. In doing so,

mythscape potentialises the recognition of wider social change within myth narratives in

Aotearoa New Zealand.

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D. Bell (2003) remarked that “representation and recognition – of us and them – act as

the mutually supporting scaffolds upon which national identity is constructed” (p. 67).

Combined, the attributes of mythscape are valuable to my exploration and research of

Kiwi identity and kiwiana because many of the associated myths are founded within the

history and constructs of identity. Like knowledge, social identity and identity theories

and Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) rhizome, mythscape is dynamically charged.

That charge also includes the importance of materiality, and its role in socio-temporal

mythscapes. Exemplifying this is the artwork on the Air New Zealand cabin crew

waistcoat. The waistcoat shows indigenous flora and fauna, as well as many items of

kiwiana and Māoriana (see Figure 4). As materiality, the

images on the uniform support what D. Bell (2003)

termed governing myths. Consequently, mythscape

contributes a dynamic perspective to my theoretical

amalgam by offering a unique view of Kiwi myth. That

perspective reflects the relationship, in my research,

between Kiwi identity, my participants, kiwiana and

myself. These relationships align to Woodward’s (2007)

suggestion that materiality not only reflects an ideology,

but also the time, place and space of its audience. The

iconography on the latest Air New Zealand cabin crew

uniform reinforces this very point.

Concluding my Conceptual Framework

Compiling my theoretical and conceptual frameworks has been a labour of love. I liken

my work in this chapter to constructing a recipe: both contain many ingredients. I believe

that my recipe is complete. My journey in developing my conceptual framework has been

guided by two overarching constructs, the social construction of reality (Berger &

Luckmann, 1966) and symbolic interactionism (Blumer, 1969). I found that these

theories, in the context of my research, were complementary to each other and also to the

other key theories that I had selected, including social identity theory and identity theory.

My realisation of their theoretical commonality was achieved when I came to understand

that these theories embraced change: they were dynamic and had practical application.

Source: Singleton (2018).

Figure 4: Air New Zealand’s

kiwiana waistcoat.

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This eased my progression to a consideration of other congruent theories, or ‘ingredients’,

specifically intersectionality (Crenshaw, 1991), the rhizome (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987)

and D. Bell’s (2003) mythscape. These theories, refined within my conceptual

framework, serve to focus the lens of my research in meaningful and dynamic ways. My

theoretical choices not only reflect my own knowledge about theory, and its refinement

in its operationalisation, but also how theoretical choices must reflect participant realities

and experience.

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Chapter 3: Background and Context

Precis: Chapter Overview

This chapter includes important background and contextual information for readers and

complements some of the following chapters of this thesis. Sections in this chapter

include an exploration of Māori and Pākehā identities; the kiwi bird and its importance to

Māori and Pākehā; kiwi and the Treaty of Waitangi; and Kiwi as an identifier in

contemporary print media. My emphasis on presenting kiwi/Kiwi within these domains

is to acknowledge the diverse ways the word is used and how, through that use, people

choose to adopt Kiwi as their identifier of choice (see Chapter 4: Literature Review).

I also present a section examining worldviews of my research participant groups. This

section is important because it explores how ontologies and epistemologies are

operationalised within cultures and communities. It also provides a base from which later

discussion can develop, tracing how my research participants change and adapt to new

environments and identities as recently arrived migrants to Aotearoa New Zealand (see

Chapter 3: Migration to Aotearoa Nerw Zealand).

Introduction to Identities in Aotearoa New Zealand

Despite waves of migration to New Zealand, two identities dominate the nation: Māori7

and Pākehā8 (Statistics New Zealand, 2013). Māori are Aotearoa New Zealand’s

indigenous first people, tangata whenua9. The formal relationship between Pākehā and

Māori began in 1840 when the Crown on behalf of settler colonists signed the Treaty of

Waitangi (Orange, 1989). The Treaty provided an initial understanding between its Māori

signatories and the Pākehā Crown. It is widely accepted that, since its signing, the Treaty

7 Māori: “2: native, indigenous, fresh (of water), belonging to Aotearoa/New Zealand, freely, without

restraint, without ceremony, clear, intelligible” (Māori Dictionary, 2018). 8 Pākehā: “2. English, foreign, European, exotic - introduced from or originating in a foreign country; 3.

New Zealander of European descent - probably originally applied to English-speaking Europeans living in

Aotearoa/New Zealand” (Māori Dictionary, 2018). 9 Tangata whenua: “3. Local people, hosts, indigenous people – people born of the whenua, i.e. of the

placenta and of the land where the people’s ancestors have lived and where their placenta are buried” (Māori

Dictionary, 2018).

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of Waitangi has been used in ways that have marginalised Māori (A. Bell, 2004a, 2004b,

2010; Chalmers, 2014; Durie, 1995; Hawaikirangi-Pere, 2013).

Māori Identity

As Durie (1995) explained,

Far from being homogenous, Māori individuals have a variety of cultural characteristics

and live in a number of cultural and socio-economic realities. The relevance of so-called

traditional values is not the same for all Māori, nor can it be assumed that all Māori will

wish to define their ethnic identity according to classical constructs.. (p. 15)

In 2013, Māori made up 14.9% of the country’s population. People identifying as Māori

totalled 598,605, while 668,782 people claimed some Māori descent (Statistics New

Zealand, 2013). As Durie (1995) indicated and Hawaikirangi-Pere (2013) further

remarked, “pinpointing an exact definition of Māori identity is complex” (p. 11). This

complexity reflects the dynamic nature and diversity of postcolonial identities.

Additionally, terminology has confused Māori and Pākehā identities because Māori and

Pākehā are perceived in binary terms. While binaries can be helpful, they can also

highlight difference and promote duality rather than plurality. As King (2003) explained,

“the Māori text of the Treaty of Waitangi used the expression ‘tangata Māori’– ordinary

people – to denote them” (p. 168).

In the English text and subsequent, overwhelmingly Anglo-centric interpretations of the

Treaty, Māori were taken to have willingly compromised their judicial, social, economic

and cultural sovereignty (Orange, 1989). These compromises were challenged in the

1970s when Pākehā saw the beginnings of a Māori renaissance (King, 2003).

Māori identity incorporates cosmology, marae protocol and spirituality (Rata, 2012). The

inclusive ‘we’ promotes Māori collectivism (Podsiadlowski & Fox, 2011). Collectivity is

characterised by whanaungatanga tuakana/teina relationships, kaitiakitanga, or belonging

(Rangatahi Tu Rangatira, 2016). In configuring te ao Māori (the Māori worldview),

Dobbs and Eruera (2014) established six important constructs reflecting Māori identity

values: “whakapapa [kinship/collectivity], tikanga [enacting Māori values and beliefs],

wairua [a spirit of passion], tapu [self-knowing/esteem], mauri [inner values, power

influence, identity] and mana [outer values, achievement, power, influence]” (p. 9).

Further, Dobbs and Eruera (2014) noted that these constructs were mediated by “te ao

hurihuri (contemporary influences ... the most significant from these is colonisation) [and]

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... transformative elements (the ability to apply te ao Māori constructs [within] the

environmental and contextual influences of society today)” (p. 9). Time in te ao Māori is

cyclic (Ka’ai & Higgins, 2004; Taituha, 2014). Time’s cyclic nature encompasses

everything.

Consequently, everyone is linked to everything through atua,10 the environment and

whakapapa. The constructs listed by Dobbs and Eruera (2014) form the ontological and

epistemological base of Māori knowledge and worldview. For Māori, these constructs

impact identity within a time continuum.

Māori identity typifies the complexities inherent to all identities (Penetito, 2011). Penetito

(2011) explained that constructs of “whakapapa, Māoritanga [Māori identity], iwitanga

[iwi/tribal identity], hapūtanga [subtribe identity], and whanaungatanga [family identity]”

(p. 46) were essential to Māori identity. Rata (2012) described how “whānau [extended

family and], marae [meeting houses maintained by whānau]” (p. 2) are important

constructs within Māori identity. Additionally, Rata (2012) suggested that the association

between whakapapa and mana constituted the single most important combination within

Māori identity. Mana, as a divine power, is passed down from the atua. Walker (1990),

however, suggested that mana is inherited at birth.

In distinguishing three Māori identity types, McIntosh (2005) exposed the complexities

inherent in researching identity. More recently, Hawaikirangi-Pere (2013) engaged

similar rhetoric:

The term ‘unconnected’ has been used as a description placed upon Māori who portray

a seeming lack of Māoriness, or those that claim to be Māori with low ‘cultural capital’.

This places these Māori as ‘less’ Māori than those who speak Te Reo Māori [Māori

language] fluently. The term ‘marginalised’ has also been used to describe Māori who

are not able to relate to Māori or Pākehā effectively. (p. 13)

Māori identity is complex. To understand any of the basic elements within Māori identity,

it is necessary to disengage a Pākehā worldview and then engage an understanding of

what it means to be Māori from a Māori point of view. While Māori are often described

10 “Ancestor with continuing influence, god, demon, supernatural being, deity, ghost, object of superstitious

regard, strange being – although often translated as ‘‘god’’ and now also used for the Christian God, this is

a misconception of the real meaning. Many Māori trace their ancestry from atua in their whakapapa and

they are regarded as ancestors with influence over particular domains. These atua also were a way of

rationalising and perceiving the world. Normally invisible, atua may have visible representations” (Māori

Dictionary, 2018).

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as a collectivist culture incorporating spiritual elements and mana, these views do not

accurately represent the sense of identity for all Māori. While certain characteristics are

attributed to certain identities, believing that all Māori share the attributes noted in my

research would be to misunderstand Māori identity.

Pākehā Identity

Colonist settlers who came to Aotearoa New Zealand were collectively named Pākehā by

Māori (C. Bell, 2004). As Orsman (1997) noted, Pākehā “had been adopted in widely

separated New Zealand localities, and [Pākehā] was a generic term for all whites” (p.

567). Orange (1989) noted that Pākehā was used in the Māori version of the Treaty of

Waitangi. Mikaere (2004) observed that “Pākehā are the products of an invading culture”

(p. 38).

However, the origin and meaning of the term Pākehā are contested. The 1966

Encyclopedia of New Zealand suggested that Pākehā derived from “pakepakeha:

imaginary beings resembling men; (or from) pakehakeha: one of the sea gods noted had

both fair skin and hair; [or] from keha: a flea; [or] from poaka: a pig” (McLintock, 1966a,

para. 2-5). Nahe (1894) and Ranford (2012) concur that Pākehā is a reference to

pakepakehā. For Māori, the new arrivals were “the apparition gods of the deep sea”

(Nahe, 1894, p. 236). Ranford (2012) argued that when Māori first saw Captain Cook and

his sailors, they referred to them as tipua or tupua: a terrifying supernatural goblin-like

creature which, to them, may have resembled the imaginary pakepakehā. Johnson (2005),

on the other hand, proposed that Pākehā is “an early transliteration of ‘bugger’, or ‘bugger

you’ from the vernacular language of sailors” (p. 147-148).

Spoonley (1988) observed that Pākehā are “New Zealanders of a European background

whose cultural values and behaviour have been primarily formed from the experiences of

being a member of the dominant group of New Zealand” (pp. 63-64). C. Bell (2004) noted

that “Pākehā generally refers to locally born white New Zealanders, the term evolving

from its earliest meaning of non-Māori” (p. 180). A. Bell (2004b) expanded on this by

suggesting that “in temporal terms, indigenous peoples [in this case Māori] are simply

‘first peoples’. Settlers [Pākehā] can never be better than ‘second’” (p. 30). Yet, Spoonley

(2017) noted, those settlers have become the dominant group.

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Adding complexity and possible confusion to the Pākehā identifier is the fact that some

descendants of colonist settlers deny the term’s use and applicability to them (Spoonley,

1988). Spoonley (1995) suggested that Pākehā who are uncomfortable with the term

tended to favour “the inadequate label of European” (p. 57). Lack of exact or agreed-upon

meaning coupled with the uneven adoption of the term may help to explain why Pākehā

materiality is not called Pākehāna, but rather the more generic kiwiana (see Chapter 4:

Literature Review). Extending the complexities of identifying as Pākehā are Michael

King’s postcolonial revisions of the term, which I examine in detail in the next section.

Postcolonial Pākehā Identity

Historian Michael King (1985, 1991, 1999)11 re-positioned Pākehā identity. His research,

writing and understanding of being Pākehā has moved and smoothed its ‘political

baggage’. Movement reflects his revision of what being Pākehā means; smoothing

denotes his bypassing of Pākehā’s role in New Zealand’s colonial and contemporary

histories. Consequently, King’s work has promoted a postcolonial revision of what it

means to be Pākehā. He emphasised that Pākehā differentiated Aotearoa New Zealand’s

mainstream culture: “[Pākehā] is an indigenous expression; and because the words

“European” or “Caucasian” are no longer accurate or appropriate” (King & Locke, n.d.,

para. 14). King’s research and own experience outside of New Zealand consolidated his

belief that he belonged here. He formalised that in Being Pākehā Now:

Two decades on, with the Māori renaissance and Waitangi Tribunal process in full flow,

that need [the right for Māori to be Māori in their own country] has been met. New

Zealand is for the first time making a conscious effort to accommodate Māori grievances

and aspirations. What I am conscious of now is a rather different but equally pressing

need. It is to explain Pākehā New Zealanders to Māori and to themselves; and to do this

in terms of their right to live in this country, practise their values and culture and be

themselves. (King, 1999, p. 9)

King (1999) declared that he and other Pākehā were indigenous. He enhanced this by

suggesting that Pākehā materiality such as the wooden church and the macrocarpa tree

supported Pākehā indigeneity. King (1999) also suggested that people living in New

Zealand by choice, who were committed to the land and its people, were equally as

indigenous as Māori. Justifying that, King (1999) suggested that all New Zealanders were

11 King’s ‘Pākehā’ publications included Being Pākehā (1985), Pākehā: The Quest for Identity in New

Zealand (1991), and Being Pākehā Now: Reflections and Recollections of a White Native (1999).

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immigrants to the country. He urged that Pākehā could no longer be considered an

immigrant people because they had resided in Aotearoa New Zealand since the early

1800s.

Yet, King’s (2001) rhetoric placed Pākehā within Māori collectivism. Pākehā moved

“Pākehā brothers and sisters towards a similar degree of confidence and security in their

own identification with this land as Māori have” (King, 2001, p. 20). King (2001)

proposed that the ethnic blending of Māori and Pākehā had, since colonisation, created a

situation whereby the “sins of the fathers” argument could not be contemporarily justified

(p. 113). However, King (2001) ensured that Pākehā’s indigeneity was not at a cost to

Māori. King (2001) evoked collective concepts of tuakana and teina. He asserted that

tuakana symbolically positioned Māori as an older sibling to Pākehā. Teina reflected the

status of Pākehā as the younger brother or sister.

Similarly, Gray et al. (2013) aligned being Pākehā to being Māori. Their findings revealed

that their research participants felt that being identified as Pākehā was a gift from Māori.

It is therefore not surprising that Gray et al. (2013) posit that Pākehā have adopted Māori

materiality.

For some Pākehā, the term ‘Pākehā’ constituted “an accessible means for non-Māori New

Zealanders to set themselves apart from people in other countries” (Gray et al. 2013, p.

89) rather than an appropriative act. In this way, Pākehā as an identifier is simultaneously

dynamic yet aligned to Māori. This binary evokes and, for some people, provokes the

other.

The Kiwi

Defining the Kiwi Bird

Kiwi are considered avian ratites. Ratites have flat breastbones, which make flight

impossible (Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 2016). Aotearoa New Zealand’s kiwi species

are noted in Table 12. As a unique indigenous avian, the kiwi has been around long

enough to have survived Aotearoa New Zealand’s split from Gondwana, the arrival of the

first Māori, the extinction of moa, and, latterly, Pākehā arrival and colonisation (King,

2003).

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Table 12: Species of kiwi in English and Māori.

Great Spotted Kiwi Roa or Roroa

Little Spotted Kiwi Kiwi pukupuku

North Island Brown Kiwi Kiwi

Okarito Brown Kiwi Rowi

Southern Brown Kiwi Tokoeka

St. Bathan’s Kiwi (extinct)

Source: Department of Conservation (2016d).

Kiwi is a Māori word by origin, defined as: “1. (noun) northern brown kiwi, North Island

brown kiwi, kiwi feather, Apteryx mantelli and tokoeka, Apteryx australis - flightless,

nocturnal endemic birds with hair-like feathers and a long bill with sensitive nostrils at

the tip” (Māori Dictionary, 2018). As an avian identifier, the kiwi is unique. Its name is

commonly believed to reflect the kiwis call; however, Phillips (2015a) disagreed:

The male does claim its territory with a half-whistle, half-scream, usually at dusk, and

females answer with a hoarse(er) tone. But the sound is not kee-wee. In some species it

is a single rising note repeated up to 10 times. If it was named for its call, then kree

would be a more accurate representation. The bird is probably named for its similarity

to the Polynesian kivi, a migratory curlew that also has a long beak. (side panel, para.

1)

Postcolonial land clearing has negatively influenced the kiwi’s habitat. Kiwi are now an

endangered species (Department of Conservation, 2016d). Reflecting that endangerment

are low breeding numbers, a limited gene pool and predation (Department of

Conservation, 2016d).

Unlike other indigenous birds, kiwi have not been renamed with an English language

identifier but have instead retained their original Māori name. While changing names can

be said to reflect the dynamic evolution of language, when applied to indigenous birds,

like the kiwi, I propose that renaming constitutes an act of appropriation. In Aotearoa

New Zealand, as Table 13 reveals, such appropriation has been widespread. Table 13

identifies 24 indigenous bird species. Only the kiwi has not been given an English name.

Exemplifying the changes in name, birds such as the tītī and ruru are more likely to be

referred respectively as the sooty shearwater and morepork.

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Table 13: Birds of Aotearoa New Zealand.

Māori name Pākehā name Characteristics

Hihi Stitchbird Hihi references the bird’s yellow sunray breast feathers.

Hoiho, Pokotiwha,

Kororā

Penguin

Hoiho: the yellow-eyed penguin; Pokotiwha: the

Fiordland crested penguin. Kororā: little penguin.

Hōkioi, Te Pouākai Haast’s eagle Extinct. Known via oral history. A bird of bad omen.

Kāhu Harrier hawk Kāhu are considered by some tribes to be a guardian bird.

Kakariki Parakeet Small parrot.

Kea Mountain parrot A unique alpine parrot.

Kererū/Kūkū/Kūkupa

Parea

Wood pigeon Two other pigeons on Raoul Island and Norfolk Island

are now extinct.

Kiwi Kiwi Ratite avian.

Kuruwhengu Shoveler duck Shovelling reflects the duck’s ‘bottom up’ feeding

Pāpango, Matapōuri Scaup Bird has dark feathers and face.

Pīhoihoi Pipit (whistler) Incorrectly known as the ground lark and native lark.

Pitoitoi/Karuwai Robin Pitoitoi references the bird’s call. Pitoitoi is believed to

bear good or bad news depending on place and time.

Pīwakawaka Fantail “The fantail or pīwakawaka (Rhipidura fuliginosa) is 16

centimetres long, including its 8-centimetre tail. It weighs

8 grams” (Wild about New Zealand, 2016, para. 1).

Ruru Morepork Ruru are considered by some tribes to be a guardian bird.

Takahē Hermit bird Believed extinct until 1948.

Te Kura Moa “An old Māori chief, Urupeni Puhara, was recorded as

saying: “The moa was not the name by which the great

bird that lived in this country was known to my ancestors.

The name was te kura or the red bird; and it was only

known as moa after Pākehā said so” (New Zealand Birds,

2005, para 5).

Tētē whero Brown teal Name references plumage.

Tīeke, Tiekerere Saddleback Name references bird’s call.

Tītī Muttonbird/Sooty

shearwater

Stewart Island Māori are permitted to catch tītī annually

from 1st April to the 31st May.

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Titi pounamu Rifleman Bright green feathers are similar to the colour of

pounamu.

Tūī Parsonbird “Early Europeans called the tui the ‘parson bird’ because

the two white tufts of feathers at the tui’s throat reminded

them of a vicar’s collar” (Wild about New Zealand, 2016,

para. 2).

Whio Blue duck Named after its call, a whio (whistle).

Note. Adapted from Department of Conservation (2016a; 2016b; 2016c; 2016d), Lyver and Newman

(2012), New Zealand Birds (2005), New Zealand Birds on Line (2013a, 2013b), McLintock (1966b), Troup

(2015) and Wild about New Zealand (2016).

The kiwi’s popularity is supported by the prolific use of the term especially in print media

(see the section “‘Kiwi’ in the Media”, below).

Māori Myth, Materiality and the Kiwi Bird

Myths provide a way to understand Māori cultural identity. Campbell (2017) suggested

that myths are important to us because they promote our understanding of the universe

and help validate and maintain our ways of being. Myths provide a security of knowledge

(Campbell, 2017) that becomes important in times of insecurity. In that way, myths

provide reassurance. Campbell (1988) noted that myths “are metaphorical of spiritual

potentiality in the human being, and the same powers that animate our life animate the

life of the world” (p. 22). Campbell’s (1988, 2017) views are supported by Māori myths.

Exemplifying this is Tāne Mahuta (the god of the forest) and the myth about the kiwi bird

which tells us much about its importance to Māori. Additionally, and relevant to today’s

growing environmental concerns, the Tāne Mahuta/kiwi myth provides a powerful

metaphor for environmental care and sustainability. According to Phillips (2015b) early

Māori knew the kiwi as “‘te manu huna a Tāne’, the hidden bird of Tāne, god of the

forest” (para. 1). The following version of the story of how this came about is from Ashby

(2016) and Birdnote (2016). When Tāne realised that insects were eating the forest, he

invited several birds down from the trees (and flight) to become ground dwellers. Tāne

believed that ground dwelling birds that ate insects would restore the forest’s natural

order. The tūī did not like the forest floor’s darkness and declined the offer. The pūkeko

resisted because it believed that the forest floor was too damp. The saddleback simply

refused. When Tāne asked the kiwi responded, “I’d love to”. Commending the kiwi’s

effort and despite all birds being the children of Tāne, “Tāne-hokahoka made him [the

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kiwi] the most well-known and best-loved bird of all” (Ashby, 2016, n.p.). As reward,

Tāne Mahuta bestowed on the kiwi its distinctively long beak.

As they come from the ‘first and favoured child’ of Tāne, kiwi feathers hold special

significance for Māori. Kiwi feathers are used to adorn kākahu (Māori cloaks). Kākahu

are considered Māori taonga and, as treasured items, are passed through generations. In

this way, kākahu, as materiality, link the past, present and future. Kākahu also reflect

tikanga (Māori customary practice) (Taituha, 2014). Kākahu signify their wearer’s mana

and also reveal something about their makers. Kākahu design, feather layering and

weaving techniques reflect their maker’s skill, training, whakapapa and craft knowledge.

As Ngāi Tahu’s Rawiri Te Maire Tau (2001) noted, kākahu complete the circle of

connection within te ao Māori: “Everything was related and all ‘things’ were held together

by genealogical connections that eventually referenced back to the self” (p. 137).

Materially, kākahu represent a form of wealth and as a consequence are part of gift

exchange between Māori. The wearer’s mana is a direct reflection of the kākahu’s quality.

As Harwood (2011) described:

At European contact, mainly men or women of high rank wore kaitaka, a large finely-

made cloak decorated with tāniko borders (coloured geometric bands of tightly twined

muka strands). Kahu kurī (dog skin cloak) helped to identify rangatira (chiefs) or

fighting men of rank. Kurī were highly prized and valued for their hunting abilities, and

their skin and hair were desired for cloaks and adornment of taiaha (carved fighting

weapons). (p. 4)

While most kākahu are utilitarian items, many were made for special occasions

(Harwood, 2011). Harwood (2011) noted that the materials used to make them reflected

the kākahu’s importance. For example:

The incorporation of dog and bird skin and feathers provided warmth and insulation,

but it is also theorised that these cloaks were highly-regarded prestige items based on

the cultural value and rarity of the species. (p. 4)

Brown kiwi feathers were the most popular: “The lustrous brown feathers of the native

brown kiwi ... were treasured and widely sought after for cloak production” (Harwood,

2011, p. 5). However, the most treasured feathers came from the rare albino kiwi

(Harwood, 2011). Dog pelts were another popular material, as were feathers from the

albatross, kākāpo, kākāriki, kererū, tūī and weka. Feather use reflected geographic bird

availability and tribal belief (Harwood, 2011). Underscoring how different tribal beliefs

impacted feather choice is the use of ruru (morepork) feathers. Some iwi perceived ruru

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as an atua (a god). Consequently, their feathers were deemed desirable by that iwi. Others

believed ruru was a harbinger of death. Those iwi ruled ruru feathers undesirable

(Harwood, 2011). Colonisation introduced new bird species and feather options. This

impacted kākahu feather use as Māori began to supplement indigenous feathers with those

from introduced species. New feather options included the California quail, chicken,

mallard duck, peacock, peafowl, ring-necked pheasant, and wild turkey (Harwood, 2011).

The Kiwi and the Treaty of Waitangi

Signed on 6 February 1840, the Treaty of Waitangi (Te Tiriti o Waitangi) recognised an

agreement between indigenous Māori and the British Crown (Orange, 1989). As Durie

(2003) observed, “Māori have not entered into a single treaty since then and development

now is excessively focused on the Crown” (p. 102). Since its signing, Māori have engaged

a “dogged ... struggle for recognition of their rights under Te Tiriti o Waitangi” (Walker,

2017, p. 39). Struggle has focused on two themes that have disadvantaged Māori: social

inequity and the Treaty’s duplicitous nature12 (Macdonald, 2016; Waitangi Tribunal,

2016). A consequence of those struggles, particularly during the 1970s, was the

realisation by many Pākehā that Māori culture was important to the nation.

Māori protest peaked with the 1975 Hikoi (Māori land march). It drew public attention to

the Crown’s unlawful land appropriations that had occurred over time (King, 2003).

Because of the land-march protests, the Waitangi Tribunal was established.

The Waitangi Tribunal, as Sharp (1997) recounted, “was instituted in 1975 as a way of

avoiding rather than confronting the continued Māori demand that the Treaty should be

‘ratified’” (p. 74). Waitangi Tribunal recommendations are not legally binding. As Derby

(2012) noted, the Tribunal “could only make recommendations to the government on its

findings and had no power to enforce them” (para. 6). Essentially, the Waitangi Tribunal

provides a contemporary bridge between the government and Māori that recognises the

historical gap between Māori and Pākehā by providing a forum for Māori claims. As a

Waitangi Tribunal (n.d.) press release noted:

More than 170 years after the Treaty, we still seem to bear the burden of mutually felt

attitudes from our colonial past, with Māori feeling that their culture is marginalised,

12 Two versions of the Treaty differ in terms of the place of Māori in Aotearoa New Zealand’s governance.

Central to this difference is the construct of rangatiratanga, i.e. “chieftainship, right to exercise authority,

sovereignty” (Māori Dictionary, 2018).

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while non-Māori fear that Māori will acquire undeserved privileges at their expense

(para. 5).

Over time, the Waitangi Tribunal has facilitated change for Māori. However, as Durie

(2003) argued, “it is not clear who, among Māori should articulate those aspirations or

convert them into policies and programmes” (p. 102).

Between 1975 and 2015, the Waitangi Tribunal “registered 2501 claims [and] fully or

partly reported on 1028 claims” (Waitangi Tribunal, 2017, para. 9). Many of the claims

relate to land that was either taken from Māori, or appropriated by government from

Māori (King, 2003; Macdonald, 2016; Waitangi Tribunal, 2011b, 2016, 2017). Of special

interest to my research is the Waitangi Tribunal’s 2011 release of WAI 26213. WAI 262

is a significant because it addressed many of the contemporary commercial realities Māori

face in regard to the design and marketing of Māori symbols (Stephens, 2010).

Essentially, as Stephens (2010) noted, WAI 262 included “indigenous flora and fauna and

Māori intellectual property” (p. 63). WAI 262 also noted the kiwi bird; however, my

contact with Keana Wild (personal communication, 21 February, 2017) from the

Waitangi Tribunal revealed that the Tribunal holds no “direct claims in relation to the

kiwi”. Yet, the WAI 262 claim mentions kiwi, albeit in wider contexts. In WAI 262, kiwi

birds are noted as taonga. Disappointed that WAI 262 held no bird-specific references, I

scanned the document to find out in what other ways the word ‘kiwi’ was included. Word

search results for kiwi within the WAI 262 document are noted in Table 14.

13 WAI 262 “recommends reform of laws, policies or practices relating to health, education, science,

intellectual property, indigenous flora and fauna, resource management, conservation, the Māori language,

arts and culture, heritage, and the involvement of Māori in the development of New Zealand’s positions on

international instruments affecting indigenous rights. These recommendations include law changes and the

establishment of new partnership bodies in several of these areas” (Waitangi Tribunal, 2011b, para. 13).

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Table 14: Kiwi quotes from WAI 262.

● “Thanks to millions of years of evolution in relative isolation, the country has an estimated 80,000

indigenous species, ranging from New Zealand icons such as the kiwi and tuatara to humble worms

and microbes” (p. 63).

● “Names were coined for thousands of species that were not present in Hawaiki, such as kauri, kiwi,

and tūī” (p. 64).

● “Yet another value that may be worthy of consideration is national identity. Some species, and the

environments they live in, reflect our sense of ourselves as New Zealanders. The most obvious of

these is the kiwi, whose very name is synonymous with being of this place. Other species such as

pōhutukawa (the ‘Kiwi Christmas tree’)” (p. 89).

● “We also said in that chapter that Māori interests in these taonga should be balanced, on a case-by-

case basis, with other legitimate interests. In the case of DOC [Department of Conservation], those

include the interests of the environment itself and the taonga that comprise the environment; the

interests of other people who use or rely on the conservation estate, including scientists and

researchers, recreational users, the tourism industry, and so on; and the community as a whole,

which derives a sense of identity from iconic landscapes and species (the most obvious example

being the kiwi)” (p. 135).

Source: Ko Aotearoa Tenei: A Report into Claims Concerning New Zealand Law and Policy Affecting

Māori Culture and Identity (Waitangi Tribunal, 2011a).

While no clear recommendations have been made, the kiwi and other flora and fauna have

generally been recognised by the Tribunal as indigenous and of specific importance to

Māori. In this way, kiwi are taonga. Although absent from note within WAI 262,

contemporary protection for the kiwi is facilitated by sanctuaries, community-based

conservation groups, responsible private landowners and the Department of

Conservation, which is “a key player in protecting kiwi habitat” (Kiwis for Kiwi, 2012,

para. 4).

‘Kiwi’ in the Media

Reading the daily newspaper is an act of identity affirmation (Billig, 1995). Media reflect

and influence the way in which we see ourselves and others. To understand how ‘Kiwi’

is used in print media, I explored five sequential editions of the New Zealand Herald

newspaper (Friday 5 August–Tuesday 9 August, 2016). According to circulation

numbers, the New Zealand Herald is the nation’s most read and most influential

newspaper (New Zealand Audit Bureau of Circulation, 2017). My analysis revealed that

the term Kiwi was widely used in the newspaper as a one-size-fits-all identifier for people

from New Zealand. The New Zealand Herald reinforced not only the term’s common use

but also the subtle nuance of what the term means and implies.

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I considered all sections of the newspaper, except the classifieds, situations vacant, and

commercial lift-out sections. Influencing my work during this period were the Olympic

Games. This event was heavily covered by the media. Participating athletes from New

Zealand were referred to as Kiwis in many articles and consequently, the New Zealand

Herald’s Olympic coverage would have increased the occurrence of the term in the

editions I analysed. Nonetheless, the New Zealand Herald provided a valuable source to

see and come to understand how we see ourselves, and how the word Kiwi was used by

the newspaper.

Recognising some common themes, I created the following four theme categories: single

and unified identifier; Kiwi characteristic attribution; negative use; and boasting Kiwi-

ness. Of these themes, three positively reflected being Kiwi and represented 90% of all

references. In all five editions of the New Zealand Herald I explored, the term Kiwi was

used 50 times as both a collective and convenient identifier.

‘Kiwi’ as Unifying Identifier

As a unifying identifier, the term Kiwi reflects A. Bell’s (2017) recollection that “national

identities [like Kiwi] construct the nation as singular and unified” (p. 58). Within my

theme ‘unifying identifier’, the New Zealand Herald used the term 19 times. Notable

examples include Section A where it was stated that the nation expected “a projected

population rise to about 4.8 million Kiwis” (“Lack of Police Officers,“ 2016, p. A3).

Similarly, in the Canvas section the paper noted that resident “Kiwis spent $3.4 billion

on clothes, shoes and accessories” annually (“Kiwis spent $3.4 billion,” 2016, p. 2).

Used in this way, the term Kiwi was informative but downplayed the emotion inherent to

holding debt, as in: “Many Kiwis and Aucklanders in particular have saddled themselves

with way more debt than they care to think about” (“On a Mission,” 2016, p. C3). Sporting

references linked Kiwi as both attribute and flattery. One sports article related: “It’s

Farquhar’s chiseled jaw and classic Kiwi sporting-hero look that has secured his place in

our hot Olympic list. Farquhar is known as one of the nice guys in Kiwi sport” (“Stuart

Farquhar,” 2016, p. A2).

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‘Kiwi’ as Attribute

Pioneer and settler culture have bestowed contemporary Kiwis with a legacy of Kiwi

attributes (see Chapter 4: Literature Review). I identified 11 occasions where the New

Zealand Herald used Kiwi as an attribute to suggest inclusivity. Typifying Kiwi

ruggedness, the newspaper noted: “Kiwis hunker down for more days of big chill after

freezing weekend” (“Kiwis hunker down,” 2016, p. A3). Further on, the New Zealand

Heart Foundation encouraged Kiwis to “put aside their ‘she’ll be right’ attitude” (“She’ll

be right,” 2016, p. A3). Kiwi was also put into the context of a patriotic identifier: “We

Kiwis have nothing on the Americans. They are intensely patriotic” (“Dine and dash,”

2016, p. A20). The New Zealand Herald also recognised mateship as an attribute in

gender-inclusive ways: “And she teamed up with fellow Kiwi actress Claire Chitham”

(“New Zealand dollar,” 2016, p. C8). The paper presented Kiwi as a way to access other

Kiwis: “Award-winning Herald photographer Brett Phibbs was given access to several

Kiwi [Olympic] hopefuls” (“Olympic Effect,” 2016, p. A2). Access presupposed readers’

prior knowledge and their desire to hear these stories. Similarly, Kiwis were presented to

readers as known individuals in that way: “TV personality Erin Simpson and Kiwi

favourite Dick Frizzell” (“Olympics,“ 2016, p. B2). This actualised Anderson’s (1991)

imagined communities and the presumptive ‘we’ of Billig’s (1995) nationalism.

‘Kiwi’ in Negative Contexts

The term Kiwi was used negatively in only five instances in the copies of the paper I

explored. Negative contexts reflected the good-natured rivalry between New Zealand and

Australia. Such banter was mostly a part of sports reporting, such as in this example:

“Aussie commentator Phil Kearns blasts Kiwis as poor winners” (“Coleman, be

cautious,“ 2016, p. A12). Other negative sporting quotes made fun of Kiwis, exemplified

by the paper’s reference to the film The Fight Club. In reporting on Kiwi sportspeople

changing codes, the paper inferred displeasure suggesting it was unpatriotic: “In light of

these several unpatriotic offences, it may help to spell out the rules” (“Unpatriotic

offences,” 2016, p. A10). Their list of rules included ‘Kiwis do not swap codes’.

Negative use of the term Kiwi was also noted outside of sports reporting. In identifying

socio-economic inequities reflected in poverty in the country, the Salvation Army was

reported as stating: “Thousands of Kiwis do not have access to everyday basics of food,

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warmth, and shelter” (“Shelter people from the storm,” 2016, p. 5). Finally, the paper

related the history of car-racer Chris Amon. In a piece that anthropomorphised his car,

the New Zealand Herald noted: “Amon and the car had a mutual dislike for each other

and it got to the stage [where] the Kiwi thought the car would kill him” (“To keep or sell

is tricky,” 2016, p. C6).

‘Kiwi’ as Boast

As C. Bell (1996) observed, New Zealanders appear to be in constant need of reminders

about who they are. Kiwi as boast, Kiwi in negative context, Kiwi as attribute and Kiwi

as unifying identifier can all be read as positive attributions reaffirming her point. Even

the negative aspects of Kiwi in the media hold some positivity. They are used to reaffirm

identity resilience and a Kiwi ‘can-do’ attitude. In these ways, the New Zealand Herald’s

use of Kiwi supports Sands and Beverland’s (2010) notion that Kiwi is a positive and

vernacular identifier for people from Aotearoa New Zealand inasmuch as Kiwi’s use

could be considered boastful.

The New Zealand Herald’s use of Kiwi reflected presupposed meanings, associated

myths and their implications and influences for readers. The newspaper used the term

assuming its readers understood that it referred to people from Aotearoa New Zealand. In

this way, the New Zealand Herald differentiated ‘us’ from ‘them’, despite never defining

exactly what Kiwi referenced. This use reinforces Kiwi inclusivity and adds a layer of

protective knowing about being Kiwi. Consequently, the New Zealand Herald’s use of

Kiwi offered its readers comfort. Kiwis read about other Kiwis, that is, people like

themselves. The use of Kiwi in this newspaper reinforced existing themes of national

identity and unity, and facilitated an imagined sense of community and belonging. This

contextualised Kiwi not only within Aotearoa New Zealand’s socio-culture, but also

within Anderson’s (1991) wider concept of imagined communities. Notwithstanding that

wider conception, this use of Kiwi also limited the diversity inherent in being Kiwi and,

simultaneously, through journalistic convenience, reinforced Pākehā hegemony and

possible white privilege, all the while using a Māori word: Kiwi.

The New Zealand Herald and Myths of Being Kiwi

Implicit in the use of Kiwi in the New Zealand Herald was the subtle but pervasive

reliance on myth. The newspaper implicitly perpetuated myth in its reporting, particularly

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that of maleness and its emphasis on sport, mateship, practicality and a ‘she’ll be right’

Kiwi attitude. Maleness was reinforced in articles relating to stoic and masculine

characteristics. The myth of mateship was exemplified through reference to comradery.

Worldviews: Seeing my Participants

This section presents a theoretical understanding of how my participant groups see the

world. Worldview is important because it not only influences our understanding of the

world but also informs how we communicate our understanding to others. By

understanding worldview, we come to an appreciative knowledge of how others think and

how they consider their own ontologies and epistemologies. Worldview exploration

provides a lens through which we can discern the importance of my participants’ opinions

and their ways of being. Similarly, worldview reflects the lenses and biases that I hold,

as author of this work. Those concepts influenced my ability to negotiate and interpret

my participants and their data. Appreciating worldview schemas therefore entails a

cultural understanding of the ‘other’.

Underscoring the importance of cultural understanding was my initial attempt to recruit

Pacific Island participants. In hindsight, part of the difficulty I had was my lack of

Pasifika14 cultural awareness. My initial approach to Pasifika groups made me feel

uncomfortable. My discomfort reflected my belief that I could approach Pacific Island

participants through their church networks. As a non-Christian, I did not feel at ease in

church environs. I felt duplicitous. Being inside a church signified my own Christianity.

Now, I believe that my discomfort was obvious to potential participants and was

ultimately reflected in my failure to recruit from religious environments.

My Pasifika recruitment ‘ah-ha’ moment arrived after reading about talanoa and fonofale.

Through these readings, I became cognisant, in deep and meaningful ways, of the

communication protocols important to Pasifika communities. Effective communication,

I discovered, needed a relaxed, mutually beneficial, non-specific conversation that over

time got around to what I really wanted to ask and say.

14 The term ‘Pasifika’ refers to “those peoples who have migrated from Pacific nations and territories. It

also refers to the New Zealand-based (and born) population, who identify as Pasifika, via ancestry or

descent” (Airini et al., 2010, Appendix 2, para. 2).

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Consequently, I have learned much from and about my Pacific Island participants. Not

all of this learning focussed on Kiwi identity and kiwiana. These participants taught me

the value of taking my time: to enjoy the moment. I came to appreciate that an unforced

conversation would get me further than might a hurried or overly direct one. Having

experienced this, I can honestly say that my Pacific Island focus group (see the section

“Finding the Participants” in Chapter 5: Methodology) and interview work were,

personally and professionally, the most satisfying and rewarding sessions that I conducted

in this research. Encounters with Pasifika participants were characterised by laughter and

fun. Sometimes I wondered if I was doing research at all. Yet, my recordings and

transcripts reassuringly indicated that I had uncovered some very interesting material

from this group. While I am grateful to all my research groups, my Pasifika participants

hold a special place for me. This group taught me more than just what they experienced

about Kiwi identity and kiwiana. They taught me the value of listening and the enjoyment

that being part of a group brings.

Understanding the various worldviews of all research participants, is important.

Worldview, or a person’s framework of ideas about the world, reflects how they construct

reality within their personalised ontology and epistemology (Berger & Luckmann, 1966).

Worldviews are embodied and enacted within a person’s cultural being. Worldview is a

philosophy for living (Creswell & Plano Clark, 2011), formed from an implicit

understanding of how knowledge is constructed (Nicholi, 2004). Accordingly, Creswell

and Plano Clark (2011) recognised that constructionist worldviews reflected the plurality

of being, and that plurality incorporated the “social and historical construction” (p. 40) of

everyday life. Thus, the creation of people’s everyday lives aligns with the social

construction of reality (Berger & Luckmann, 1966).

In considering cultural and individual worldviews, Hanley (2016) provided some

guidance by employing an iceberg metaphor. While icebergs can roll in the water, it is

expedient to initially consider Hanley’s (2016) iceberg as static. Paralleling themes of

consciousness, semi-consciousness and unconsciousness (Weiten, 1992), Hanley’s

(2016) cultural iceberg has three levels. The first is what can be seen above the water line.

For Hanley (2016) that included “language, the arts, literature, religion, music, dress,

dance, games, sport and cooking” (Hanley, 2016, p 3.). The second level, at the waterline,

included “the awareness level boundary” (Hanley, 2016, p. 3). At this level, people are

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aware of everything above the waterline and, on occasion glimpse what lies below it.

Hanley’s third level is the submerged section of the iceberg, referred to as the “invisible”

layer (Hanley, 2016 p. 3). Applied to my research, Hanley’s iceberg levels reveal the

dynamic nature of worldview and how contemporary influences impact on it (see, for

example, “Te ao hurihuri”, Dobbs & Eruera, 2014, p. 9). However, it is important to

remember that Hanley’s (2016) iceberg is dynamically mobile; it can roll at any time.

Illuminating not only what is seen, this iceberg model also reveals a participant’s

worldview: their ontology and epistemology. Cognisant of these theoretical perspectives,

in particular as framed by Hanley (2016), this section explores the worldviews of my

participant groups. In doing so, this section provides insight into how my participants and

I negotiate identity and come to terms with materiality within our own worldview

paradigms and constructions.

Collective worldviews can be expressed in cultural values. Schwartz (2006) explained

that cultural values are belief-oriented, incorporate desirable goals, transcend action and

situation, set standards, and are ordered by their importance. Cultural values discern how

groups and individuals interact. This aligns worldview not only to cultural values but also

to the dynamics of social identity theory (Tajfel & Turner 1979) and identity theory

(Stryker, 1980). As Kluckhorn and Strodtbeck (1961) revealed, people look towards their

cultures to answer fundamental questions. Consequently, worldview acknowledges the

enactment of individual and group ontologies and epistemologies.

Defining Cultural Values

Williams (1979) linked worldview to values. He noted that, “the term ‘values’ has been

used variously to refer to interests, pleasures, likes, preferences, duties, moral obligations,

desires, wants, goals, needs, aversions and attractions, and many other kinds of selective

orientations” (Williams, 1979, p. 16). Hitlin and Piliavan (2004) argued that biology, race,

ethnics, gender, age, social structure, social class, occupation, education, family,

immigrant status and religion not only percolate our being but also link cultural values to

identity. Schwartz (2006) described how “cultural value orientations evolve as societies

confront basic issues or problems in regulating human behaviour” (p. 140). How

individuals, groups and societies enact and embody values denotes their similarities and

differences (again linking to social identity theory and identity theory). Table 15, below,

presents a chronology of academic cultural value perspectives.

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Table 15: Cultural values.

Hechter’s (1993) value

construct impediments

Hitlin and Piliavin’s (2004)

value constructs

Schwartz’s (2006) cultural

values

● Values are unobservable

● Uncertain link how values

shape behaviour

● Therefore, linking behaviour

to values is uncertain

● Measuring values is

problematic

Extending Hechter (1993), Hitlin

(2004) added:

● Values are often conflated

with other socio-

psychological actions

● Values reflect variability

and historicity

● Values are belief-oriented

● Values incorporate desired

goals

● Values transcend action and

situation

● Values set standards

● Values are ordered by their

importance, and their action

reflects their importance

As can be seen in Table 15, Hechter (1993), Hitlin and Piliavin (2004), and Schwartz

(2006) reflect the dynamic nature of cultural values. As Hitlin and Piliavan (2004) noted,

“people refer to values when justifying behaviour as legitimate. Values, but not traits,

serve as standards for judging others’ (and one’s own) behaviour” (p. 361).

Pacific Island Worldview Schemas via Talanoa

My exploration of Pasifika worldviews within Pasifika culture and my understanding and

integration of talanoa and fonofale not only benefited my research, but also positively

added to my personal and professional growth. Prescott (2008) found that talanoa was

particularly relevant and useful in the Cook Islands, Fiji, Hawai’i, Niue, Samoa, Solomon

Islands, and Tonga. As Vaioleti (2006) noted:

Researchers whose knowing is derived from Western origins are unlikely to have values

and lived realities that allow understanding of issues pertaining to knowledge and ways

of being that originated from the nga waima (spirits) and whenua15 of Samoa, Tonga,

Fiji, Tuvalu or the other Pacific nations. (p. 22)

Vaioleti (2006) explained that ‘tala’ means “inform or tell”, whereas ‘noa’ means “of any

kind, ordinary, [and] nothing in particular” (p. 23). For Vaioleti (2006), talanoa

incorporates a “multi-layered critical discussion in free conversation” (p. 23). Discussion

and conversation occur within formal or informal discourse and are always face to face

(Vaioleti, 2006). Otsuka (2006) asserted that talanoa includes a shared rapport of time,

emotion and interest between participants. This positions talanoa as best suited to

15 Whenua denotes people/s from a region/country.

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qualitative description (see Chapter 5: Methodology) because conversation facilitates

research perspectives and research relationships. ‘Otunuku (2011) noted that “talanoa

allows group conversations to develop over a considerable time period in which the focus

is determined by the interests of the participants” (p. 45). As Farrelly and Nabobo-Baba

(2014) indicated, “Talanoa has recently been taken up by development researchers and

others as a culturally appropriate research method in Pacific contexts” (p. 319).

Talanoa is part of Pasifika worldview. ‘Otunuku, (2011) described talanoa as including

“dynamic interaction[s] of storytelling, debating, reflecting, gossiping, joking, sharing

families’ genealogies, food and other necessities. Talanoa helps build better

understanding and co-operation within and across human relationships” (p. 45). Johnston

(2013) pointed out that researchers need to be active participants in talanoa’s dynamic

conversations or interviews. For me, this contrasted with the stilted question/response

model of traditional Western research methods. Encapsulating talanoa’s strengths (see

Table 16, below), Vea (2015) explained that “talanoa is a universal method which most

Pacific cultures are built upon; to talanoa, you converse with another intimately” (p. 6).

Table 16: Talanoa as research activity.

Talanoa Research (Pacific Focus) Qualitative Approach (Traditional Western Focus)

● Researcher is purposefully engaged in

sharing emotions and interests.

● Researcher enacts structured format, creating

‘distance’ between them and participant often

emphasising anonymity.

● Emphasises trusting and respectful

interaction without time constraint.

● Researcher reflexively explores their impact on the

research often after the research participant

interaction.

Note. Adapted from Johnston (2013).

I found that my engagement in talanoa promoted my deeper conversations with my

Pasifika participants. Talanoa embedded my focus group conversations in ways of being

that were most familiar to my participants. My participants joked with each other and

with me within the informal nature of our encounters. I found talanoa an engaging and

refreshing experience as it shook off the rigidity that I had previously experienced using

traditional Western research methods. Talanoa generates a very human environment

enabling the gathering of meaningful participant data.

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Pacific Island Worldview Schemas via Fonofale

Complementing talanoa is fonofale. Initially, fonofale’s purpose was to assist medical

professionals in Aotearoa New Zealand to understand the perspective of their Pasifika

clients. As part of this research, engaging in fonofale reflected my participants’ and my

own negotiation of Pacific Island and palagi (white people) cultural values as we

discussed Kiwi identity and kiwiana. In that negotiation, and reflecting the potency of

Pasifika worldview, there was the sense of ‘home and belonging’ in the Islands that was,

for my participants, never far from their New Zealand migrant identities (see Chapter 6:

Findings).

Family, either nuclear or extended, provides a foundation for Pacific Island culture and

organisation (Pacific Cultural Guidelines, 2016). Four ‘pou’ (posts or supports) facilitate

those connections:

Spiritual: systems of belief incorporating history, language, traditional spirituality

and Christianity.

Physical: the relationship of the body to the environment.

Mental: thinking, expressed emotions and behaviours.

Other: constructs of gender, age, education (Pacific Cultural Guidelines, 2016, p. 3).

The pou are mediated by three overarching concepts :

Environment: the “uniqueness of Pacific people to their physical environment” in

rural or urban settings.

Time: their “actual or specific time in history”.

Context: the “where/how/what and the meaning it has for that particular person or

people” (Pacific Cultural Guidelines, 2016, p. 3).

Table 17, below, synthesises Pacific Island cultural values.

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Table 17: Summary of Pacific Island cultural values.

Theme Expression

Family ● Shared values/meanings between Pacific nations/peoples

● Kinship, ancestry, interconnectedness

Communitarianism

Reciprocity

● Sense of community, mutual help before individualism

● Obligation of care and interaction

● Shared purpose, honesty, exchange of whatever is needed

● Lack of reciprocity indicates lack of respect

● Consensus view important

Respect ● Expected behaviours toward elders

● Keeping face

● Acknowledging people holding power

● Respect for religion, customs, protocols

Spirituality ● Belief in something greater than self (God)

● Church provides meeting place and is facilitator of community projects

Communication ● Interactive connections facilitating open communication (see talanoa)

● Give and expect thank you gestures

Note. Adapted from Pacific Cultural Guidelines (2016).

For me, engagement with my Pasifika participants was an epiphany. My great realisation

made me question something basic: how had I come this far as a researcher without

realising that qualitative research is about holding meaningful conversations about a

shared topic, particularly with others keen to talk about it? That realisation made me

Google four keywords: basic definition qualitative research, a search that located a book

by Silverman (2004). Silverman (2004) proposed that qualitative research was about

finding meaning through the use of words. That short paraphrase, finding meaning

through the use of words, fermented in my mind. Then, it came to me. Silverman (2004)

promoted, as I interpreted it, qualitative research as a conversation. My interpretation of

qualitative research as conversation promoted more thought. I wondered: Could I use the

things I had learnt about Pasifika culture in my focus group and interviews with my

Chinese and Latin American participants? If it were possible, how might I amend my

approaches of talanoa and fonofale to meet the needs of these other groups?

In the following two sections, I explore how I used my Pasifika participant encounters in

talanoa and fonofale as ways to mediate my encounters with my Chinese and Latin

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American participants. Using these tools provided my insight into both groups’

worldviews. By implementing talanoa and fonofale within these groups I alleviated the

power differentials between me, the researcher, a member of New Zealand’s dominant

culture, and my participants as minority group migrants.

Chinese Worldview Encounters

To understand the Chinese worldview in my research, it would be easy to think about it

as being distinctly Chinese. For any migrant, including Chinese migrants, worldview is

particularly fluid; migrants are, by nature, in ongoing states of flux. These states reflect

their transitional identities and these identities wax and wane, mediating the process

between being something and becoming something else. While my Chinese participants

might value the five virtues of Confucianism (Rarick, 2008), consciously or

subconsciously, I questioned the influence of those constructs as my participants come to

know and understand Kiwi identity and kiwiana. I believed that in creating a participant-

friendly environment, my participants would provide quality data.

Consequently, I viewed my Chinese participant worldview as fluid. Without question this

group made constant comparison to ‘things back in China’. However, these comparisons

were important as they enabled their understanding of their new environment: Aotearoa

New Zealand. Therefore, it was important that I and focus group mediators facilitated

free and multi-layered conversations (Vaioleti, 2006). Applied to my Chinese

participants, this meant that, rather than maintaining tight control of the group, it was

better to encourage free associations and to leave gaps of silence. The ability for

participants to ‘put things together themselves’ (through free association), and to possibly

feel awkward when the conversations ended, promoted their wider and enthusiastic

participation. In these ways and having learnt a valuable lesson from my Pacific Island

participants, talanoa and fonofale delivered, within a respectful environment, a mutual

understanding of the other. That mutuality expressed in conversation reflected and

maximised the point made earlier in relation to Silverman’s (2004) ideas about qualitative

research.

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Latin American Worldview Encounters

In exploring Latinx16 worldviews it would be easy to relate the importance of machismo,

(University of Notre Dame, 2009) and the gendered nature of space, and how these two

factors impact Latinx behaviours (Spillan, Virzi & Garita, 2014). However, and like my

Chinese participants, my Latinx group are in Aotearoa New Zealand, not their country of

birth. Therefore, a new approach is necessary to understand their revised worldview. That

understanding is tempered by new locations, new experiences and the fluidity inherent to

transient identity. Consequently, talanoa and fonofale again provided gentle tools

facilitating my understanding of Latinx worldview.

Latinx participants were keen to talk. They enjoyed conversation and they, like my

Pasifika participants, enjoyed laughing. Consequently, fostering conversations with these

participants was easy. In talanoa, this group engaged in “dynamic interactions of

storytelling and debating [on seeing a silver fern in Peru]; […] reflecting [on home and

how to help], gossiping, joking and sharing” (‘Otunuku, 2011, p. 45). In these ways,

talanoa was a natural group fit.

Our awareness of how talanoa ‘works’ meant focus group and interview encounters

yielded intimate conversations within which participants often exposed their vulnerability

as recent migrants. Consequently, using talanoa fostered a mutual understanding between

these participants and myself as researcher, and fostered fonofale as the participants,

focus group mediator and researcher engaged and negotiated a respectful cultural

environment for all participants.

Concluding Thoughts on Participant Worldviews

Underpinning all my focus group and interview encounters with the constructs of talanoa

and fonofale proved beneficial. Talanoa and fonofale reflect Pasifika perspectives, in the

country’s largest Polynesian city: Auckland. Consequently, talanoa and fonofale were

natural choices for exploring and understanding worldview within a New Zealand

context. In that way, my use of talanoa and fonofale reflects Smith’s (2008)

recommendation that alternate ways of understanding the world can be active contributors

to contemporary research. In using talanoa and fonofale outside of Pasifika contexts, I

16 Latinx refers to “A person of Latin American origin or descent (used as a gender-neutral or non-binary

alternative to Latino or Latina)” (Oxford Living Dictionary, 2018, para. 1).

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have come to understand that the base of any qualitative inquiry is, as Silverman (2011)

noted, about finding meaning through the use of words. The relaxed and non-specific

questioning inherent in talanoa proved invaluable to my research and also contributed to

my personal growth. In many ways, using talanoa and fonofale with my Chinese and

Latin American participants reminded me that undertaking participant-centred research

was identical to hosting a successful hospitality experience. The more relaxed my

participants were, the more they talked and engaged with the topic.

Migration to Aotearoa New Zealand

To understand the beginnings of Pākehā dominance within Aotearoa New Zealand’s

socio-culture, this section presents a brief history of our nation’s immigration legislation.

Until Norman Kirk’s Labour Government (1972-1974), Aotearoa New Zealand practiced

discriminatory legislative migration policies. These policies are presented in Table 18,

below. Their goal was to make Aotearoa New Zealand the England of the South Pacific

(Beaglehole, 2012). Consequently, preference was given to English migrants. These

legislative arrangements have contributed to Māori subordination to Pākehā in Aotearoa

New Zealand.

Table 18: Summary of New Zealand immigration legislation 1881 to 1961.

Legislation Implications (Beaglehole, 2012)

Chinese Immigrants Act (1881). Restricted entry to a specific group of people. Introduced

poll tax.

Immigration Restriction Act (1899). “Prohibited the entry of immigrants who were not of

British or Irish parentage” (p. 2).

The Chinese Immigrants Amendment Act

(1907).

Required Chinese migrants to read 100 words of English

before an official.

Immigration Restriction Amendment Act

(1908)

“Required Chinese people [the only group required to do

this] living in New Zealand to place a thumbprint on their

certificate of registration” for re-entry to the country (p. 2).

The War Regulations (1916). “No-person over the age of 15 could land in New Zealand

without a passport” (p. 3) or other identity documentation.

The Undesirable Immigrants Act (1919). This legislation effectively excluded Germans, Austro-

Hungarians, socialists and Marxists.

The Immigration Restriction Amendment

Act (1920).

Solidified Aotearoa New Zealand’s white migrant policy.

In the Act, “aboriginal natives of any part of the British

Empire, except New Zealand, were not [deemed to be]

British, for the purposes of the Act” (p. 3)

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The Immigration Restriction Amendment

Act (1931).

“Prevented aliens (as non-British immigrants were still

known) from Europe, entering New Zealand” (p. 3).

The Immigration Amendment Act (1961). Realised that Aotearoa New Zealand held wider migration

source options. This Act required that British and Irish

migrants gained an entry permit.

Source: Beaglehole (2012).

In the 1970s, Kirk’s government suggested that Aotearoa New Zealand needed a migrant

policy that “ignored race, colour and religion” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 4). Kirk’s

government recommended policies recognising Aotearoa New Zealand’s geographical

position within the Asia-Pacific region. Changes in the Kirk administration’s immigration

focus meant that after 1974 a larger cohort of migrants was considered and that the

English language requirement was unnecessary (Beaglehole, 2012). However, English

language knowledge was assessed in migrants’ interactions with officials and “some

knowledge of English was required under a points system” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 4).

In 1986, the Immigration Policy Review expanded these changes. This review negated

race and nationality in favour of admitting “any person who met specific educational,

business, professional, age or asset requirements” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 5). Consequently,

under the Immigration Act 1986, immigrants were settled under one of three key

categories; “a skilled business stream (60% of migrants) … a family stream (30% of

migrants) … [and] a humanitarian stream (10% of migrants)” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 5).

Further, in 1991, the Immigration Amendment Act “replaced the occupational priority

list with a points system … any applicant achieving a minimum number of points was

automatically eligible for admission” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 5). This meant that applicants

from countries previously deemed unsuitable were now treated equally in immigration

processes based on skill. Consequently, “the number of Asian [migrants entering

Aotearoa New Zealand] grew” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 5).

The Immigration Act 2009 is Aotearoa New Zealand’s latest legislation. This Act

facilitates a tiered system of entry and visa application, while maintaining a focus on skill

desirability rather than country of origin. Since 2009, the Act has been updated with

amendments including the collection of biometric and other security information

designed to enhance national security (Immigration New Zealand, 2018).

In considering the nation’s history of immigration legislation and its impact upon this

research, I propose that Aotearoa New Zealand has undergone four distinct waves of

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migration. The first wave was dominated by colonial, pre-1840, settlement. The second

wave endured from 1840 until the beginning of the ‘golden weather’ in 195217. Then, a

third wave of migration occurred. It lasted from the end of the ‘golden weather’ (1966)

until the immigration reforms of 1986. At that time, a fourth wave began. I link my

participants and their perceptions of Kiwi identity and kiwiana to this fourth wave. I

expand that position in Chapter 7: Discussion and Conclusion.

Chinese Migration

New Zealand’s discriminatory immigration practice had, until the policy changes within

the Immigration Act 1987, the most significant negative impact on Chinese migrants. The

Chinese Immigrant Act 1881 “was the first [Act] to restrict entry of a specific group of

people” to the country. The Act limited access to Chinese migrants by ship size: “one

[Chinese] for every 10 tons of the vessel’s weight [decreased to] “one Chinese person per

100 tons” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 2). Compounding that was a poll tax of £10 (in 1881),

increased to £100 (in 1886), per Chinese migrant (King, 2003). Three years later, the 1889

Immigration Restrictions Act “prohibited entry to immigrants not of British or Irish

parentage” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 2). Those policies, as Beaglehole (2012) suggested,

embodied “the supposed superiority of white people and the desire to make New Zealand

a ‘Britain of the South Seas’” (p. 2). Additionally, the Chinese Immigrants Amendment

Act 1907 insisted that Chinese applicants “read 100 words of English in front of a customs

official … the £100 poll tax remained” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 2). This was an unreasonable

and discriminatory request considering Swarbrick’s (2012) point that “British settlers

arriving in New Zealand [at that time] were often less well-educated than Māori” (para.

1).

The Immigration Restriction Amendment Act 1920 solidified Aotearoa New Zealand’s

discriminatory policies. The Amendment excluded “aboriginal natives of any part of the

British Empire, except New Zealand, [who] were not [deemed to be] British, for the

purposes of the Act” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 3). However, it removed the need for Chinese

re-entry migrants to have a thumbprint, but not the poll tax. That was abolished under

Fraser’s 1940-49 Labour Government (Beaglehole, 2012). Deputy Prime Minister Walter

Nash stated that “Chinese [people] are as good as any other race [and] we will not in

17The ‘golden weather’ was a period of unsurpassed economic growth occurring between the 1950s and

1960s (Carlyon & Morrow, 2013; Dann, 2018)

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future countenance any discrimination against them” (cited in King, 2003, p. 369). During

the 1990s Helen Clark’s Labour Government formally apologised to the Chinese

community for the discrimination that their forebears had experienced.

Since then, and as Ho (2015) observed, between 1986 and 2013 the Asian population of

New Zealand has “increased almost nine-fold from 53,883 in 1986, to 471,711 in 2013”

(pp. 95-96). Reflecting that growth, Prime Minister Jim Bolger noted that “we are

deliberately adding an Asian strand to our national identity” (as cited in McKinnon, 1996,

p. i). While Chinese immigration has increased and the government has enacted equitable

migration policy, Kiwi-born Chinese Helene Wong, reflected on her life here with some

pointed questions:

Being Chinese also sets me on the margins of [New Zealand] society, allowing me to

have a detached perspective on it. I may have resolved the question of my identity, but

what about the identity of the country I call home? Is there anything a Chinese New

Zealander can bring to the conversation about what it is to be a New Zealander? (p. 175)

Within that consideration Wong (2016) revealed that identity is a work in progress for all

of us.

Migration from the South Pacific

Migration from some Pacific Islands to Aotearoa New Zealand has always been by right.

Since 1901, Cook Islanders and Niueans have had residency rights in Aotearoa New

Zealand. Since 1916, Tokelauans have held residency rights. However, “Tongans, Fijians

and Samoans have faced [immigration] barriers [often mediated by] economic conditions

and public opinion” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 6). Pacific Islanders arrived in the 1960s and

1970s in greater numbers than the quotas allowed. By the mid-1970s, the need for labour

from the Pacific Islands had decreased (Beaglehole, 2012) and the previously blind eye

of immigration then focused to differentiate legal Pacific Islanders from overstayers. This

“led to dawn raids on Pacific Island households [particularly] in Auckland” (Beaglehole,

2012, p. 6). Statistically, this action reflected a bias: “Pacific Island people comprised

only one-third of [all] overstayers, [yet] they made [up] 86 percent of prosecutions for it”

(Beaglehole, 2012, p. 6). By contrast, “citizens from the United States and the United

Kingdom comprising a third of those over-staying, represented only 5 percent of

prosecutions” (Beaglehole, 2012, p. 6).

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Migration from Latin America

As Wilson (2015) noted, “before the 1970s very few Latin Americans came to New

Zealand” (para. 1). Wilson (2015) speculated that early arrivals in the 1800s were lured

to Aotearoa New Zealand by the prospect of finding gold. By 1874, there were only 80

Latinx people in the country (Wilson, 2015). It was not until the end of World War Two

that migrant numbers from Latin America reached 200. At that time, Wilson (2015) noted,

half were from Argentina. By 1971, the number of Latinx people in the country had

reached 400. With political instability after the Pinochet regime came to power in 1973,

many Chilean residents sought refugee status here. While many refugees never

considered New Zealand home, many applied for reunification with family members in

New Zealand. With increasing political stability, especially in Chile during the 1980s,

many refugees either left New Zealand for home or went to live in Australia. However,

in 2013, as Wilson (2015) noted there were “3,588 Brazilians; 2,409 Chileans; 1,701

Argentinians; 1,155 Colombians; 741 Mexicans; 447 Uruguayans; 150 Venezuelans; and

153 Bolivians” living in New Zealand (p. 1).

Conclusion and Summary

This chapter is important. The information it provides underpins ‘the way things are

today’ and acknowledges some of the events that have contributed to ‘the way things are

today’. In presenting this chapter I am aware of several factors that impact its potency

and ‘truth’. History is often constructed as a reflection of social power dynamics as well

as the position of its authors. The history of migration to Aotearoa New Zealand reflects

these dynamics. Similarly, cultural worldviews are bound within groups and individual

expression.

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Chapter 4: Literature Review

Precis: Chapter Overview

To understand Kiwi identity, kiwiana and myth in literature, I use D. Bell’s (2003)

construct of mythscape (see Chapter 2: Theoretical and Conceptual Framework).

Mythscape provides my research with an overarching lens through which I recognise and

incorporate the mythic and socio-temporal nature of Kiwi identity and kiwiana.

Mythscape recognises the intersectional continuums of history, time, place and space

within which Kiwi identity, kiwiana and their related myths are founded. Consequently,

mythscape supports my understanding of social constructionism and my view that

knowledge, within ontology and epistemology, represent a symbiosis. Additionally, and

because mythscape is socio-temporally located, it supports the vernacular and academic

nexus of identity, materiality and myth. That triplet is important to my literature review

because Kiwi identity, kiwiana and myth feature in popular and academic literature.

Similarly, mythscape illuminates what, for many people, is a passive, unquestioned

acceptance of identity, materiality and myth as socio-temporal givens (Billig, 1995).

Finally, using mythscape in my literature review prepares the ground for the integration

of my work in my Findings and Discussion chapters in my proposal that the changing

dynamics of Kiwi identity and kiwiana represent a fourth wave of migration and identity

construction in Aotearoa New Zealand.

Settler culture fostered a male-centric worldview that still permeates New Zealand’s

socio-culture. Maleness has been embodied within the construct of mateship.

Unsurprisingly, C. Bell (2004) suggested that the combination of mateship and a male-

centric worldview reinforced a “Pākehā primacy” (p. 175). Therefore, the first section of

my literature review explores Kiwi identities, beginning with settler culture.

While I recognise that a body of contemporary literature exists on male identity

dominance in New Zealand, and its Kiwi focus, it is not discussed in my review. My

rationale for its exclusion, except for Brady (2012), is simple: its base concepts are

grounded in male-dominated versions of Kiwi identity, the very topic I have chosen to

discuss. Consequently, while the various works on male identity dominance are

compelling reads (Brady, 2012; Bruce & Stewart 2015; Mitchell, 2010; Turner 2007)

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their only value to my work is that they develop contemporary expressions of the ideas

of my seminal authors. While I exclude the papers just noted, I am aware that those papers

promulgate existing Kiwi identity and kiwiana myths and therefore contribute toward

their currency. Considering that, I remind my readers that an aim of my research is to

question the contemporary relevance of existing myths and to ask, through an

examination of my data, how new mythologies may emerge (see Chapter 6: Findings, and

Chapter 7: Discussion and Conclusion).

Next, I explore kiwiana. As the materiality reflecting Kiwi identity, kiwiana also

incorporates a male-centric worldview. Kiwiana provides actant reminders of Aotearoa

New Zealand’s period of ‘golden weather’: the 1950s and 1960s (Carlyon & Morrow,

2013; Dann, 2018). To complement my discussions of Kiwi identity and kiwiana, I

explore why the North Island town of Otorohanga has embraced Kiwi identity and

kiwiana as its point of difference. Then, extending these domains, my review presents

sections on how Kiwi identity and kiwiana are mobilised with whats is vernacularly

known as the OE (overseas experience). That discussion reveals in practical ways how

Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) rhizome construct can be used to understand the

propagation of kiwiana and Kiwi identity. It also reinforces my emphasis on using D.

Bell’s (2003) mythscape lens. Finally, I conclude my literature review with a brief but

critical discussion on the current myths associated with Kiwi identity and kiwiana.

The Dream Begins: Settler Culture

“Māori [were the] first human inhabitants of the country” (King, 2003, p. 19). Durie

(2003) noted that “DNA studies ... seem to confirm that a significant colony of Māori

settlers was firmly established some eight hundred or so years ago” (pp. 13-14).

European settlement of Aotearoa New Zealand began in the late 1700s (Bentley, 2007).

It was not until the 1840s, when The New Zealand Company brought the first registered

migrants to the country, that settler populations grew (Phillips, 2015c). Migration was

promoted as a “rural idyll [ideally suited to] the bourgeois Victorian family [and as] a

labourer’s paradise” (C. Bell, 1997, p. 146). Part of paradise’s lure was the potential to

own land (McAloon, 2008). C. Bell (1997) proposed that a new start in a new land and

the possibility of land ownership combined to later produce a mythologised classless,

egalitarian society.

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Artist of the day, John Gully captured these

possibilities. His watercolour, The valley of

the Wilkin from Huddleston’s run, 1877

(see Figure 5) depicts a lone person sitting

amid a vast landscape. Gully’s images were

a contrast to the overcrowding many

migrants experienced in their homelands

(Phillips & Heam, 2013).

Settlers: Making a Name for Themselves

Men dominated the country’s early settlement. Noting the lack of women, Phillips (1987)

suggested that many early settlers were “explorers, then traders, whalers and sealers” (p.

6). Then, the lack of women provided those women who were in the country with a

bargaining chip in the workplace that was a distinct advantage. Women in the settler

workplace held “such a strong bargaining position [that it] gave colonial servants an

independent and self-confident spirit” (Elphick, 1975, p. 129).

Likewise, the tyranny of distance (Blainey, 2001) fostered innovation in men and women.

As Phillips (1987) remarked, “men appear to have a knack of turning to anything” (p. 20).

This was anchored in physicality rather than intellect: male settlers were “suspicious of

undue specialisation and the technical learning which might underpin it” (Phillips, 1987,

p. 24). Because men dominated settler culture, a male-centric worldview emerged

(Brickell, 2000). The physical work involved in clearing the land and ‘making-do’

facilitated the cult of mateship between men (Phillips, 1987). For Pākehā men, mateship

included their ability to turn their hand to anything, in no-nonsense ways.

Land played an important role in settler identity, as Wray (2011) noted:

First, it [the land] distinguished New Zealand from England by providing a unique

natural habitat for species that were found nowhere else in the world. Second, the

wilderness landscapes enabled New Zealanders to showcase their outstanding natural

heritage (in contrast to the cultural/built heritage of England). Third, wilderness

embodied the pioneering ethic of adventure and exploration, which helped to define

Figure 5: The Valley of the Wilkin from

Huddleston’s Run, John Gully, 1877.

Source: New Zealand History (2018b).

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New Zealand settler society and to distinguish it from Europe. And finally, wilderness

symbolised two of the fundamental values of early New Zealand society that were

believed to be lacking in England: freedom and egalitarianism. (p. 88)

Despite worldview differences between settlers and Māori about land ownership, settler

governments facilitated land ownership (McAloon, 2008). As Rashbrooke (2013)

observed: “land loss had a harmful effect on Māori social and economic development”

(p. 4). Today, those consequences are being addressed through the Waitangi Tribunal

claims processes (King, 2003; McAloon, 2008; Waitangi Tribunal, 1997). Nonetheless,

settler culture and settler ownership of land laid the foundations for Pākehā and Kiwi

identities (A. Bell, 1997). Mateship, innovation, maleness, physicality and making do

provided the stanchions for later emergent identities. Those attributes became

mythologised when the government encouraged an economic self-sufficiency during the

1940s and 50s.

There’s More to Kiwis than Birds

New Zealanders have been known as “Pākehā, Kiwi, Fernlander[s] and Māorilanders”

(Wolfe, 1991, p. 36) as well as “Anzac, Digger, Moalander, even Pig Islander[s]” (Harper,

2015, as cited in Stone, 2015, para. 36). As Sands and Beverland (2010) observed, Kiwi

has become a positive contemporary identifier for describing people from Aotearoa New

Zealand. As discussed already in Chapter 3: Background and Contextual Setting,

literature also records two other enduring identifiers: Māori and Pākehā (C. Bell, 2012c,

2014; King, 2003). Māori identifies the nation’s first people, tangata whenua; Pākehā

identifies the settler colonists and their descendants (A. Bell, 2004a; Gray et al., 2013;

Spoonley, 1991). Both Māori and Pākehā are terms of convenience formalised by the

signing of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840. Māori and Pākehā represent binary terms

(Awatere, 1984; A. Bell, 2004a; Bidois, 2013) inasmuch as one term is known consequent

to the other (Ranford, 2012). Māori and Pākehā are also contested terms (A. Bell, 2004b:

Grennell, 2014; King, 2003) reflecting the inequity of power relations between Pākehā

and Māori that have occurred since the Treaty signing (King, 2003; Orange, 1989;

Walker, 2017).

In the 19th and early 20th century, many settlers came to New Zealand to clear the land,

undertake commerce and to establish Westernised infrastructure and business (Hunter,

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2007). Reflecting Phillip’s (1987) earlier observations, C. Bell (2012b) added that

contemporary male traits are traceable to that time:

‘Kiwi ingenuity’ matches a longstanding well-celebrated New Zealand myth about

creative problem solving. In remote New Zealand, anything needed could not always

be obtained locally. Rudimentary tools were used to craft available materials to serve

practical ends: a ‘No. 8 wire mentality’. No. 8 wire was a standard gauge fencing wire

… such ‘do-it-yourself’ (DIY) attitudes historically arose from necessity in a settler

society. In true vernacular style and practice settlers gave priority to function. These

terms continue to hold currency. (p. 421)

The mention of the word Kiwi before the beginning of

the Boer War would nonetheless prompt New

Zealanders to reference a flightless bird with “mole-like

vision, cat-like whiskers and a shaggy plumage more like

hair than feathers” (Wolfe, 1991, p. 7). Kiwi became a

popular people descriptor during World War One,

identifying soldiers from New Zealand. Use of the word

Kiwi can be traced back to William Ramsay, the

Victorian inventor of the Kiwi-branded boot polish

(Wolfe, 1991). Ramsay branded it Kiwi because it was

easy to pronounce and honoured his New Zealand wife’s

homeland (see Figure 6). In the ten years

following World War 1, 30 million Kiwi nugget

tins had been sold around the globe (Wolfe,

1991).

War-art also reflected the rise of Kiwi as a

metaphoric person identifier. Trevor Lloyd’s

cartoon (see Figure 7) prompted the caption: “A

kiwi bird has speared three turkeys through the

middle, making their feathers fly” (National

Library of New Zealand, 2014, para. 1).

Prior to 1915, the kiwi had appeared on a New

Zealand Army military badge, as Elizabeth Mildon, Assistant Curator of Heraldry at the

National Army Museum, Waiouru, confirmed:

Figure 6: Kiwi boot polish.

Source: Foot Talk (2018).

Figure 7: Making the feathers fly.

Source: A-315-2-002, National

Library of New Zealand (2014).

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The 2nd (South Canterbury) Regiment was formed on 17 March 1911, changing its

name to the South Canterbury Battalion, which was made up of rifle volunteer units.

There are images of the South Canterbury Battalion badge in both D A Corbett’s book

The Regimental Badges of New Zealand and Geoff Oldham’s Badges and Insignia of

the New Zealand Army. Corbett dates the badge at 1886 whereas Oldham has it at 1903

(further research indicates that the 188618 date is the correct one). This badge features

the Maltese cross with the kiwi in the centre and went on to become the WWI cap and

collar badge for the 2nd (South Canterbury) Regiment. From this date onwards, the kiwi

features regularly on New Zealand badges both official and unofficial. The kiwi is still

used on badges today for the Royal New Zealand Infantry Regiment. (personal

communication, 20 January, 2015)

As the result of war and Kiwi-branded nugget tins, Wolfe (1991) noted that “the obvious

association was made and everyone began calling the New Zealander[s] a ‘kee-wee’ …

by the time another World War came around, ‘Kiwi’ was second nature” (p. 36).

Again, art reflected an emergent if somewhat

dominating Kiwi identity (see Figure 8). Lloyd’s

Death of a Moa (Cresswell, 2006) depicts two

kiwis standing in quizzical gaze over the corpse of

a moa. Other birds observe; they defer to the

kiwi’s elevated status. While Kiwi was promoted

through boot polish (Wolfe, 1991) and military

heraldry and art, Harper (2015, as cited in Stone,

2015) suggested that Kiwi was not used as an

identifier between New Zealand soldiers in World

War One. Rather, Harper (2015) suggested, it was

applied to them by other soldiers.

The popularity of the term ‘Kiwi’ has not been universal. A. Bell (1999) and Wilkin-

Slaney (2008) claimed that Kiwi was a problematic Pākehā identifier. As A. Bell (1999)

noted:

[The] appropriation of indigenous authenticity to give substance and distinctiveness to

their own nationalist identity claims [suggests that] settler peoples are ‘inauthentic’

Others in relation to both the metropolitan/European and the indigene of the societies in

which they live. They do not have ready access to a European identity. Nor are they able

to easily claim an authentic belonging to and identity within their homelands … In

18 The kiwi appeared on banknotes issued by the Bank of New Zealand in the 1870s. The kiwi was also part

of New Zealand Insurance’s symbol from 1859–1989 (Wolfe, 1991).

Figure 8: Death of a Moa, Trevor

Lloyd.

Source: Cresswell (2006).

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addition, they appropriate indigenous authenticity as a key figure in the assertion of their

own cultural distinctiveness/authenticity. (p. 122)

Wilkin-Slaney (2008) inferred that using Kiwi attributed endangered species status to

people who identified with or used it. Additionally, they proposed that in using Kiwi,

Pākehā were absolved from the responsibility of their ancestors’ actions. Consequently,

Kiwi facilitated a romanticised national history. Wilkin-Slaney (2008) pondered whether

an introduced bird might not have been a better choice. Through their concerns, A. Bell

(1999) and Wilkin-Slaney (2008) draw attention to how Kiwi’s vernacularity and use

have helped to gloss over history19, a claim that supports C. Bell’s (2014) suggestion that

Pākehā privilege has promoted a “collective fictive history” (p. 45) that reinforces Pākehā

primacy.

Today, the image of the kiwi and the use of the term ‘Kiwi’ are common and popular

identifiers (Akoorie, 2014). A Colmar Brunton research survey revealed that 96% of 1009

respondents identified as being a Kiwi/New Zealander (Akoorie, 2014). The survey also

noted that 70% of respondents held strong, positive feelings about being Kiwi. While A.

Bell (1999) and Wilkin-Slaney (2008) cautioned Kiwi’s use, using the word bypasses the

binary nature of Pākehā and Māori. Therefore, Kiwi could be perceived as a convenience

identifier because it assuages, for many New Zealanders, the politics of identity and the

social inequities associated with Pākehā and Māori. Consequently, like Pākehā and

Māori, Kiwi is enmeshed within the politics of identity. As journalist and social

commentator Paul Little (2014) commented: “Stick Kiwi in front of anything and people

will buy it. It would be unpatriotic not to” (p. 41). He remarked on how Kiwi had slipped

under the identity radar and become vernacular. Kiwi’s vernacularity not only includes

its everyday use but also its taken for granted meanings and values (see the section

“‘Kiwi’ in the Media” in Chapter 3: Background and Contextual Setting).

While Kiwi has political meaning, it also holds identity appeal to Māori. In recognition

of kiwi as a Māori word and as the Colmar Brunton survey revealed, “people of Māori

descent (81 per cent) ... [generally] identified most with being a Kiwi” (Akoorie, 2014,

para. 11). Therefore, identifying as Kiwi has the potential for a more inclusive community

than might Pākehā or Māori. That community, however, is not necessarily tangible

19 Particularly themes of Māori sovereignty, land appropriations, Māori equity and, as A. Bell (2017)

reminds us, the [conveniently] “forgotten […] telling of national history” (p. 66).

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(Anderson, 1991). As A. Bell (2017) commented, it “is not based on knowing our fellow

New Zealanders, but on imagining our connection to them” (p. 58). Being Kiwi and

performing ‘Kiwiness’ reinforces these bonds through the imaginings that are embodied

within national identity (Billig, 1995). For New Zealanders, A. Bell (2017) suggested,

national identity conferred “good feeling, solidarity and community” (p. 59). While three

identities – Pākehā, Māori and Kiwi – dominate New Zealand’s socio-culture, lumping

them together as mutually interchangeable identifiers is misleading. Identity

interchangeability suggests equity. That is not the case with these identifiers because

social, economic, identity and political equality have not been achieved (Rashbrooke,

2013). Despite Aotearoa New Zealand’s reputation as the “world’s social laboratory, a

‘workingman’s paradise’ where hard work and thrift paid off. Reality did not always

match [the] rhetoric” (New Zealand History, 2018a, para. 4).

One way of differentiating Māori and Pākehā is to consider Gramsci’s (1971) construct

of hegemony20. Hegemony pervades New Zealand’s identities. In particular, Pākehā

hegemony has been reinforced by neoliberalism (Humpage, 2017). Humpage (2017)

suggested that neoliberalism has changed New Zealand’s focus from “the ‘land of milk

and honey’ to one prioritising ‘me and money’” (p. 132). For Māori, ‘me and money’

must be considered in light of their alienation from their land and culture (Rashbrooke,

2013; Walker, 2017), and their cultural emphasis on ‘we’ as the inclusive Māori identifier.

Yet, neoliberalism has benefitted some Māori. The Ministry of Business, Innovation and

Employment (2017b) noted the rapid growth of the Māori business base that McNeill

(2017) posited might reverse Māori poverty. For Poata-Smith (2013) however, “the

growth of [Māori] income [has also created] gaps within Māori” (p. 148).

Notwithstanding, many Māori still experience social, political, educational and medical

inequities (Marriott and Sim, 2014; Sibley, Liu & Khan, 2008; Sibley, Robertson &

Kirkwood, 2005).

While use of the term Kiwi circumvents the sensitive subject of identity inherent to

Pākehā and Māori, it is also used politically. Former minister and, at the time of writing

(2018), Speaker of the House Trevor Mallard and economist Robyn Dupuis provide

20 “Gramsci’s hegemony refers to a process of moral and intellectual leadership through which dominated

or subordinate classes of post-1870 industrial Western European nations consent to their own domination

by ruling classes, as opposed to being simply forced or coerced into accepting inferior positions” (Schwenz,

2014, para. 2).

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examples. Mallard (2007) identified a distinct “Kiwi economic identity” linking “national

economic personality [with] our national identity: Kiwi” (p. 27). He proposed that the

connection between personality and identity was achieved through innovation, ‘number

8 wire’ thinking and technology. Positioning Kiwi as ‘the new kid on the block’, Mallard

(2007) recommended that “as a young and nimble nation together we can take on the

world and make the most of the opportunities presented to us – and in the process forge

a unique Kiwi economy” (p. 28).

Separately, Dupuis (2009) maximised the values commonly associated with being Kiwi

in her bid to encourage New Zealanders to save for their retirement. Applying some

reverse psychology, Dupuis (2009) contrived to “use the clever Kiwi sensibility to

suggest [to Kiwis] that [they] are simply too smart for problematic debt” (p. x) in not

saving for retirement. By persuasively using Kiwi characteristics Dupuis (2009)

reinforced their importance as widely recognised and taken-for-granted Kiwi qualities.

Exemplifying this, Dupuis (2009) asked: “What does ‘being Kiwi’ say about New

Zealanders’ abilities and inclinations to get sorted [to save for retirement]?” (p. iii). She

used Kiwi inclusively. She linked being Kiwi with Kiwi attributes. Exemplifying that she

linked the familiar “she’ll be right [Kiwi attitude]” (p. 23) to the laissez-faire perspectives

of New Zealanders concerning retirement saving. Dupuis (2009) sought to “strategise

desired behavior[s] [through the] ‘Kiwi-is[ation] of financial management” (p. x). To

make her point, Dupuis (2009) manipulated savings behaviour by using Kiwi identity

characteristics as her audience’s motivator.

What Dupuis (2009) proposed was that the attributes inherent in both Kiwi identity and

kiwiana, including “she’ll be right” (Dupuis, 2009, p. 23), the mentality of the “good

generous Kiwi bloke” (p. 49), the “number eight fencing wire mentality” (p. 50) and the

famed ability of Kiwis to “punch above their weight” (p. 52), be used to strategically if

not politically to motivate Kiwi savers.

Six years later, Colmar Brunton in the New Zealand Herald (Akoorie, 2014), reaffirmed

Dupuis’ (2009) position. The survey found that Kiwis were innovative, entrepreneurial

and can turn their hand to anything; other attributes included being sporty, competitive,

and not being greatly intellectual (Akoorie, 2014). While Pringle (2017) affirmed that

“the Pākehā man is associated with mateship, social independence, a do-it-yourself

mentality, hard work and rugged or risky leisure pursuits such as rugby, hunting,

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gambling and binge drinking” (p. 203), Mallard (2007), Dupuis (2009) and the New

Zealand Herald survey (Akoorie, 2014) have shifted the focus of being Pākehā toward a

revised, more inclusive Kiwi identity.

A further survey undertaken by the New Zealand Herald in 2016 reinforced much of the

2014 research (Wade, 2016). It also identified some differences. Respondents living in

Auckland held slightly different perspectives to those living elsewhere. Aucklanders saw

themselves as outdoorsy, innovative and proud of cultural diversity. The Auckland cohort

also believed that they were less friendly and less Kiwi than other New Zealanders. The

survey’s findings are noted in Table 19, below.

Table 19: Kiwi attributes, negatives and pride themes.

What Kiwis are

(Positives)

Percentage

Agreement

What Kiwi are

not (Negatives)

Percentage

Agreement

What Kiwis have

pride in

Percentage

Agreement

Friendly 79% Intellectual 45% Natural beauty 90%

Proud 74% Sophisticated 14% Outdoor access 84%

Can do attitude 73% Can do attitude 84%

Care about

environment

68% Laid back

lifestyle

68%

Easy going / laid

back

67% Sports

achievement

68%

Determined 67% Safety 58%

Outdoorsy 64% Equality 56%

Note. Adapted from the New Zealand Herald (Wade, 2016).

In concluding this section, it is possible to say that Kiwi can be understood as a self-

ascribed contemporary identifier of people from New Zealand. Kiwi is also a brand: Kiwi

boot polish (Wolfe, 1991). Kiwi has military connections with army life and insignia (E.

Mildon, personal communication, 20 January 2015) and in patriotically-themed art. Like

Pākehā, the characteristics of being Kiwi can be linked to the country’s early settlers,

especially men. Over time Kiwi identity has become imbued with a male-centric

worldview. Exemplifying that view has been the construct of mateship. While Kiwi is

widely used in media and politics, its self-ascription promotes the point that Kiwi may be

an identifier of preference for many New Zealanders. That preference, supported by

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research (Akoorie, 2014) deflects the politics of identity that are loaded within Pākehā

and Māori identities. This makes research on Kiwi identity not only timely, but also

significant when applied to migrants, a category of the population whose numbers have

increased substantially over the last twenty years. Consequently, Kiwi opens up identity

choices for all New Zealanders inasmuch as it provides anyone living in or identifying

with New Zealand the choice to use it in ways in which Pākehā and Māori may not.

Therefore, Kiwi invites the potential for a wider sense of community, incorporating ethnic

difference and encompassing yet circumventing the Pākehā/Māori binary. My literature

review choices and my own worldview indicate that within a Kiwi identity resides a

limitless intersectionality of being. Additionally, Kiwi identity can also incorporate the

characteristics of being Pākehā and Māori.

Kiwiana: An Introduction

The suffix ‘-ana’ denotes “a collection of objects or information relating to a particular

individual, subject, or place: Shakespeareana, Victoriana, Americana” (Dictionary.com,

2017, para. 13). Similarly, Kiwiana reflects the materiality and information relating to

being Kiwi. For Wolfe and Barnett (2001), kiwiana “celebrate[s] ... those quintessential

customs and artefacts this country has made its own” (p. 7). According to Florek and

Insch (2008), the origins of the word kiwiana date back to 1956. An incomplete trademark

registration in 1980 left the name open for general use. Wolfe and Barnett (2001) logically

suggested that kiwiana includes items within which New Zealanders recognise their

identity. For sociologist C. Bell (2012a), kiwiana provides positive “symbols of the nation

[within] material objects” (p. 278) … “imbued with accumulated meanings” (C. Bell,

2012d, p. 349). She considers that kiwiana is important because kiwiana differentiates

New Zealanders from others (C. Bell, 1996, 2004, 2012a). Additionally, in Neill (2013a,

2013b), I proposed that kiwiana includes a range of vernacular items evoking emotions

of times past rather than future possibilities. In these ways, kiwiana is important because

it provides reassurance through material items of identity and therefore reinforces New

Zealanders’ own perceptions of their place in the world. For C. Bell (2004), kiwiana’s

material meaning is “one way of accumulating artefacts of Pākehā history and Pākehā

experience, to claim [an] identity” (p. 180). Within her claim, she identifies a linguistic

flaw: if kiwiana reflects being Pākehā, then why is it not called Pakeh-ana? The answer

to that question resides in the contested binary of Māori and Pākehā. It creates either/or

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positioning. Linking kiwiana to a Kiwi identity not only aligns it linguistically, but it also

provides wider choice and possibilities for inclusion. Choice and inclusion are key

constructs within my participants’ experiences of Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Their views

will help address the linguistic anomaly C. Bell (2004) identified.

Cataloguing kiwiana, Wolfe and Barnett (2001) include Wattie’s peas, Ches ‘n Dale

(cartoon characters in a processed cheese advertising), bungy jumping, rugby, grass,

sheep, pōhutukawa, the godwit, New Zealand (the country), kiwi (the bird), number 8

wire, Buzzy Bee (a toy), sheep dogs (specifically ‘Dog’ from the cartoon Footrot Flats),

ice cream, pāua, cabbage trees, corrugated iron, the Edmonds logo (baking products),

Four Square shops, jandals, Lemon and Paeroa (soft drink), New Zealand Railways cups,

the silver fern, the Swanndri (outdoor clothing), the Taranaki gate (a makeshift type of

farm gate), Weet-Bix (cereal), the colour black (and the All Blacks), and the bach or crib.

Florek and Insch (2008) proposed that “chocolate fish, hei tiki (a Māori greenstone neck

pendant), Marmite (a dark salty spread) and … the koru” (p. 294) were also kiwiana. New

Zealand Post (2015) also included ANZAC biscuits, a barbecue, a chilly bin, chocolate

fish, fish and chips, hot-dogs, kiwifruit, a lilo, a meat pie, pavlova, pipis, and Ugg boots.

C. Bell (2013), a champion of kiwiana, described it as “popular cultural items that

distinctly reference New Zealand [that were] locally manufactured items originating

mainly in the 1940s–50s, when import restrictions limited the availability of household

goods” (p. 10-11). Carlyon and Morrow (2013) speculated that innovation was important

because, after World War Two, “returning to a comfortable life of plenty was not

immediate, for either veterans or the general populace” (p. 11). Then, an inwards-

Source: New Zealand Post (2015). Source: New Zealand Post (2015).

Figure 9: New Zealand Post 1994

kiwiana kiwiana stamp issue.

Figure 10: New Zealand Post

Millenium kiwiana stamp issue.

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focussed economy and the nation’s geographical isolation fostered a conservative

worldview (C. Bell, 1996, 2002, 2007, 2012a; C. Bell & Neill, 2014; Brickell, 2005;

Carlyon & Morrow, 2013; Falcous, 2007; Gillespie, 2010; Neill, Bell & Bryant, 2008;

Nolan, 2007). Brickell (2005) best encapsulated this view of the times as follows:

Until the mid-1990s it was argued that the New Zealand of the 1940s was a uniformly

dull and conformist society which was harsh on dissenters and which labelled women

who wished to remain engaged within the public sphere in preference to homemaking

and child raising as ‘deviants’. (p. 188)

However, McKergow (2000) challenged these notions, proposing that a deeper

understanding of that time was needed. McKergow’s (2000) perspective was supported

by Labrum’s (2000) suggestion that post-war New Zealand was “riven with

contradictions, tensions and ambiguities” (p. 188).

Carlyon and Morrow (2013) continued these themes. They suggested that a less

conservative way of being percolated under a convenient veneer of conformity, actively

challenging the existing order of things. That thinking was not new. Milner (1932, as cited

in King, 2003) suggested that “we stand on the threshold of a new order […] looking

about us for suitable weapons in case the door has to be broken down. You will find this

new spirit informing the work of our best younger poets” (p. 380). What Milner (1932,

as cited in King, 2003) and Carlyon and Morrow (2013) recognised was that, under a

conservative veneer, many people were engaged in “site[s] of struggle” (Cohen, 2012, p.

141).

Economically, it was not until the 1950s and 1960s that “the country basked in a long

spell of golden weather” (Carlyon & Morrow, 2013, p. 3). Consequently, items of kiwiana

came to symbolise that period in a rose-tinted view of life in Aotearoa New Zealand

(Neill, 2013a, 2013b). Over time, kiwiana became imbued with the attributes inherent in

being Kiwi. My own previous research (Neill, 2013a, 2013b) has detailed those

associations, for example linking the Buzzy Bee toy to industriousness (Neill, 2013b).

Industriousness was seen not only in the clearing of the land (Phillips, 1987) but also in

the ways subsequent industries maximised that land’s bounty. As I have previously

posited, in relation to the Buzzy Bee and Wattie’s Industries, the resurgence of turning

your hand to anything, the mateship of work, and being innovative through necessity was

reinforced (Neill, 2013). Additionally, I have pointed out that wearing the Swanndri, a

signifier of hard manual work, reflected the physicality of settlers who cleared the land,

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and which is now reflected by farmers, Power Board employees and forestry workers who

choose to wear it today (Neill, 2013).

Claims that items of non-indigenous kiwiana are unique to New Zealand have been

challenged (C. Bell, 1996, 2004, 2012a, 2012b, 2014; Florek & Insch, 2008; New Zealand

Post, 2015). I have asserted that the Swanndri, jandals, Buzzy Bee and Wattie’s Industries

originated somewhere else (Neill, 2013b). Specifically, my research claimed that

“jandal[s] derived from Japanese traditional footwear, the Swanndri from the German

Loden jacket, the Buzzy Bee from an early American Fisher Price toy and that Wattie’s

Industries were modelled on other overseas cannery operations” (Neill, 2013b, p. 101).

I have also critiqued kiwiana’s retrospection (as quoted in Powley, 2013). I observed that

existing kiwiana focussed on the past and questioned if and when contemporary icons

such as the beckoning cat (the Maneki-Neko21, a commonplace item in many Asian-

owned retail outlets in New Zealand) and Auckland’s White Lady pie cart (Neill, 2013b)

would be considered as kiwiana. Acknowledging the popularity of the Maneki-Neko,

Wang and Ngamsiriudom (2015) discussed how some airlines had moved toward

introducing livery representing fictional characters such as Hello Kitty22 and Pokemon23.

Livery identifiers are subtle and potent influencers that reinforce identity. Livery are often

passively accepted art forms of generalised identity which reflect the persuasive nature

of nationalism (Billig, 1995). Referencing Japan, Wang and Ngamsiriudom (2015) noted:

In 1998, All Nippon Airways (ANA) puts Pokemon livery on its aircraft and offers a

complete Pokemania experience to its customers during the flight. As a result of the

Pokemon campaign, ANA reported a significant increase in the number of customers.

(p. 112)

Wang and Ngamsiriudom (2015) observed that airline travel exposed its consumers to

ideas of escape and nostalgia. Air New Zealand may have capitalised upon those themes

too. Many of their jets are emblazoned with a stylised unfurling fern frond: the koru. The

21 “Maneki-neko (literally means ‘beckoning cat’) is a common Japanese lucky figurine that depicts a cat

beckoning with an upright paw. Maneki-neko is normally displayed in front of shops, restaurants or other

businesses to bring good luck to the owner. Maneki-neko is also known as welcoming cat, lucky cat, money

cat, happy cat, or fortune cat.” (Wang & Ngamsiriudom, 2015, p. 112). 22 “Designed by Yuko Shimizu … Hello Kitty is a fictional character portraying a female white Japanese

cat with a red bow. [It] was originally marketed to pre-adolescent female group; however, its market has

been broadened to include adult consumers. The character has become not only a huge success, but also a

staple of the Japanese popular culture.” (Wang & Ngamsiriudom, 2015, p. 112). 23 Pokémon is a collection of fictional creatures.

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koru is an item of kiwiana (Wolfe & Barnett, 2001). In using the koru, Air New Zealand

appeals to themes of escape via travel as well as a nostalgia evoked by knowing that the

koru is the silver fern: a kiwiana signifier of home (Wolfe & Barnett, 2001). Air New

Zealand’s distinctive livery has made the airline recognisable to almost every New

Zealander.

C. Bell (2012a) illustrated how Māori culture and materiality have impacted kiwiana.

While asserting that kiwiana reflected “a confident nationalism … [demonstrating]

bicultural localism” (p. 275), she also noted that “Māoriana is a subcategory of this

[kiwiana]” (p. 180). Within that observation, C. Bell (2012a) reflects on how the country’s

bifurcated identity hierarchy is supporting Pākehā dominance.

Māori materiality is also seminal to kiwiana. Examination of multiple taxonomies of

kiwiana revealed nine indigenous items (Florek & Insch, 2008; New Zealand Post, 2015;

Wolfe & Barnett, 2001). These included: the pōhutukawa, karoro/kuaka (the godwit), the

kiwi, pāua, tī kōuka (the cabbage tree), ponga (silver fern), pipi, the hei tiki and the koru.

Their inclusions might cynically represent a “bicultural localism” (see C. Bell, 2012a, p.

275); however that position has been transcended by a more popular position suggesting

that, in lacking a culture of its own, Pākehā simply took one from Māori (Awatere, 1984).

A. Bell (1999) proposed that Pākehā appropriated “indigenous authenticity to give

substance and distinctiveness to their own nationalist identity claims” (p. 122). Mikaere

(2004) supported that position:

Little wonder that Pākehā New Zealand struggles with the question of identity, seeking

to create cultural icons of gumboots, black singlets, pavlova, kiwifruit and the Buzzy

Bee toy. When travelling overseas Pākehā leap forward to perform bastardised versions

of the haka and ‘Pokarekare Ana’ and adorn themselves with Māori pendants in an

attempt to identify themselves as New Zealanders. (p. 35)

Nevertheless, kiwiana and its imbued meanings are enthusiastically embraced by many

New Zealanders.

Materiality Matters, Space, Place and Identity in Otorohanga

Exemplifying the appropriation of Māori culture is the North Island town of Otorohanga.

Otorohanga has made Kiwi identity and kiwiana its point of difference in an effort to

distinguish itself from other townships (Kiwianatown, 2015a).

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Otorohanga gives credence to C. Bell’s (1996) claim that New Zealanders need constant

identity reminders and Mikaere’s (2004) observation that identity is often enacted through

performance. Otorohanga is not the only town embracing Kiwi identity, kiwiana or other

items as distinctive local attractions. The town of Gore has its trout (see Figure 11),

Rakaia its salmon, Ohakune a carrot, Taihape its gumboot and Te Puke its kiwifruit (see

Figure 12). These towns embody Hobsbawm and Ranger’s (1983) notion of invented

tradition because they actively seek to maximise the continuity inherent within the values

of being Kiwi and its materiality, kiwiana. According to Kiwianatown (2015a), however,

it is Otorohanga that is the official ‘Kiwiana Town’ and epitome of all things ‘Kiwi’.

Otorohanga “celebrate[s] our national identity with Kiwiana displays of our NZ icons,

heroes and traditions” (Kiwianatown, 2015a, para. 1). As Otorohanga’s mayor, Max

Baxter, explained:

The Otorohanga Kiwi house is our town’s popular tourist destination, however, in the

90’s the town lacked a vibrancy and appeal that would inspire travellers to stop or an

identity that would instil pride within our community. Introducing the iconic Kiwiana

signage and history to our town was a natural link with what was already here and

satisfied those needs. The iconic Kiwiana items on display are a significant part in

identifying who we are as New Zealanders. The kiwiana theme is associated with

positivity, warmth and fond memories, which is Otorohanga in a nutshell. That is why

Kiwiana is important to Otorohanga as our point of difference. (personal

communication, 12 January, 2016)

Source: Wall (2018). Source: SunLive (2018).

Figure 11: Gore’s trout. Figure 12: Te Puke’s

kiwifruit.

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Otorohanga’s investment in kiwiana benefits the town through employment and tourism

(Tourism Industry Association, 2014). Its emphasis on kiwiana and Kiwi identity has

made national identity local and instilled a civic pride in the town’s residents. Civic pride

reflects Sands and Beverland’s (2010) assertion that the Kiwi identity and, by extension,

kiwiana are positive identifiers for New Zealanders.

Figure 13: Kiwiana posters for sale in Otorohanga.

Source: Kiwianatown (2015a).

Figure 14: ANZAC

kiwiana.

Figure 15: Kiwi slang. Figure 16: Māoriana.

Source: Kiwianatown

(2015b).

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The OE: Materiality Matters, I’m Outta Here and I’m Taking that Hei Tiki with

me!

Aotearoa New Zealand’s geographical isolation promoted the development of Pākehā

settler characteristics that are still evidenced today (Dupuis, 2009; Mallard, 2007).

Blainey’s (2001) tyranny of distance has been replaced today by the movement of many

young New Zealanders who choose to travel in the opposite direction to their forebears.

That movement is vernacularly known as the OE: the overseas experience.

Spoonley (1991) proposed that the OE was “part of an important coming of age Pākehā

ritual” (p. 148). C. Bell (2002) concurred, and noted that the OE was a “rite of passage

for young adults [within] an extended journey overseas” (p. 143). For C. Bell (2002), the

OE represented an “Antipodean secular pilgrimage ... [that was] just as important as

religious pilgrimages” (p. 146). Wilson (2014) on the other hand suggested that the OE

existed long before it was named as such:

those who set off from New Zealand in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s now recognise what

they did as an OE. Back then [however] it was described as ‘going Home’, as a working

holiday … the first use of the term OE is attributed to Tom Scott24 in the mid-1970s. (p.

189)

As C. Bell (2002) observed, the OE came to replace the OT (overseas trip). Wilson (2014)

defined the OE as “a two- to three-year working holiday during which young New

Zealanders usually live and work in London and [then] travel extensively in Europe” (p.

13). C. Bell (2002) suggested that a key component of the OE was the anonymity that the

large European populations provided Kiwis. Anonymity gave the necessary cover for

Kiwis to participate in actions that were unimaginable back home such as taking “a ‘booze

tour’ on a Kontiki bus ... smok[ing] drugs in Amsterdam, or dancing topless at parties”,

(C. Bell, 2002). Stereotypically, the OE consisted of groups of young Kiwis roughing it

in VW campervans, with Oktoberfest stop-offs and Spanish bull-running participation,

although travel was also characterised by its banality and the fact that most travellers

returned home eventually (Wilson, 2014). Ell (1994) proposed that the OE enabled Kiwis

to escape New Zealand’s conservative narrowness whereas C. Bell (2002) suggested that

it “exemplifie[d] the national do-it-yourself attitude, [and realised] part of the tradition of

Kiwi ingenuity” (p. 150).

24 A popular political commentator/journalist.

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Many Kiwis take items of kiwiana with them on their OE as reminders of home. Those

items also provide signs/symbols for others to read. Common items taken on an OE

include “displays of Māori culture […] greenstone jewellery and Māori designs on

clothing” (Wilson, 2014, p. 199). Other OE identifiers are Canterbury branded clothing,

All Blacks sportswear, and the Swanndri and its later version, the Icebreaker (Wilson,

2014). In London, homesick Kiwis can find material comfort in a range of London stores

supplying Kiwi necessities. These, as Wilson (2014) noted, include “All Black essentials

[…] sew-on patches with New Zealand motifs […] koru pendants […] L&P, Pineapple

lumps […] Jaffas […] Wattie’s Tomato Sauce […] and Peanut Slabs” (pp. 200-201).

Wilson (2014) recommended that the best way to see how many Kiwis are in London on

their OE is to participate in the pub crawl held on Waitangi Day. This ritual involves

“thousands of people wearing all forms of kiwiana — Tui/Speight’s/DB shirts, All Blacks

jerseys, beige cricket outfits, inflatable sheep, [and] provincial rugby jerseys … anything

that had a connection to their place of birth” (Wilson, 2014, p. 222). This highlights C.

Bell’s (2012a) observation that “material items are implicated in the wider socio-cultural

processes which imbue them with value” (p. 275) and D. Bell’s (2003) emphasis on the

socio-temporal relevance of myth. In this way, kiwiana and the OE exemplify the

rhizomatic nature of Kiwi identity and materiality (see the section “The Rhizome: An

Overview” in Chapter 2: Theoretical and Conceptual Framework) in their transfer

through the movement of people.

Myths of Kiwi Identity and Kiwiana

This literature review has noted forty-four items of kiwiana (Florek & Insch, 2008; New

Zealand Post, 2015; Wolfe & Barnett, 2001). Those items link myths of identity and

identity characteristics to the wider concept of national identity (Billig, 1995) and

mythscape (D. Bell, 2003). My literature review also recognises the following myths and

their socio-temporal placement of D. Bell’s (2003) mythscape.

That the egalitarian worldview and the ‘golden weather’.

That the dominance of men can be challenged by exploring New Zealand’s history.

That brawn is valued more than brains.

The following sections explore those three domains.

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Egalitarianism and the ‘Golden Weather’

Settler land ownership facilitated the myth of egalitarianism (C. Bell, 1997; McAloon,

2008). Additionally, Wray (2011) observed that New Zealand’s wilderness promoted

feelings of freedom and egalitarianism for settlers. With settlement came economic

prosperity, and social and economic reform. Social changes “confirm[ed] in the minds of

New Zealanders that their country was indeed the ‘social laboratory of the world’”

(Phillips, 2012, para. 11). However, during colonisation, and latterly, that laboratory,

“systematically excluded [Māori] by settler governments from many egalitarian

measures” (Rashbooke, 2013, p. 25). Māori disenfranchisement was perpetuated “often

through punitive or coercive means” (Rashbrooke, 2013, p. 25). Nonetheless, government

and social reforms influenced the ways in which Kiwis perceived themselves. Sidney and

Beatrice Webb, visitors to New Zealand in 1898, observed that while the country and its

people were reminiscent of England (Webb, 1959) there was a lack of intellectual life and

public libraries. However, the Webbs’ enthusiasm that there were “neither millionaires or

slums” (Phillips, 2012, para. 10) compensated for that perceived lack.

Then, Siegfried (1914) noted that:

Many New Zealanders are honestly convinced that the attention of the whole world is

concentrated upon them, waiting with curiosity and even with anxiety to see what they

will say and do next … they have been so accustomed to being taken seriously that they

have become conscious of a mission to humanity … Like provincial celebrities who,

coming to Paris, feel that everyone is looking at them, the New Zealanders, in their

distant isolation, think that they fill a great place in the world (pp. 58-59).

While Siegfried’s (1914) position could be seen as an expression of Kiwis being full of

themselves, his statement is also underpinned by an important assumption. That

assumption suggests that in being full of themselves, Kiwis were positioning themselves

as exemplars, within their own worldviews. Exemplar status promoted the belief, albeit

fictitiously, that their world and the way it appeared to others was grounded in the equity

Kiwis believed they experienced. However, between the Webbs’ visit and World War

Two, Aotearoa New Zealand endured significant social change that reinforced the

nation’s lack of egalitarianism. Exemplifying that were my ancestors Samuel and Jean

Manson, for whom, as loyal servants to the Dean family, land ownership was not a

priority. The Mansons had to repay their fares to New Zealand to the Deans by working

for them for a set period. Only after that could they begin saving to buy land. As

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indentured servants, their relationship to the Deans was hardly an equal one: it was a

master–servant relationship.

While Aotearoa New Zealand has enjoyed economic prosperity, that prosperity has not

been equally distributed. During the early boom years of the 1880s (Hunter, 2007),

employment inequity was widespread. As Vogel (1875), the Premier of New Zealand

(1873-1875), recorded:

the [New Zealand] Company monopolised all the labour they imported: and there was

no stipulation of a fair day’s work for a fair day’s wages ... private capitalists found

themselves unable to compete with the Company in the labour market (p. 175).

Similarly, the Depression of the 1930s resulted in many Māori becoming unemployed,

before Pākehā (King, 2003). As O’Regan and Mahuika (1993) stated, “in the 1930’s,

Māori were denied the dole on a belief that they could look after themselves better than

Pākehā by living off the land” (p. 5). There was the widespread perception that Māori

could take care of themselves by “go[ing] home to the pa” (King, 2003, p. 343).

While the post-World War Two economic boom facilitated the nation’s recovery, that

recovery was not equally experienced. Rashbrooke (2013) observed that less than 10% of

married women were in formal paid employment, half the number of their English and

American counterparts of the time. Although women’s wages rose during that time, they

had not achieved parity with men’s (Rashbrooke, 2013). Further iniquity undermining the

egalitarian myth was demonstrated by the fact that wages for Māori during the Depression

were 38% less than those of Pākehā (Rashbrooke, 2013).

However, adding to the myth of egalitarianism was the nation’s period of ‘golden

weather’. That period lasted from 1952-1966. Then, the economy achieved 86.46%

growth over 58 consecutive quarters. Consequently, the ‘golden weather’ period of 1952-

1966 was a time of economic prosperity. Prosperity was fuelled by the country’s post-

war economic recovery and soaring wool prices. However, by 1976, inflation was at 18%

“and the country had slipped from fourth position on the OECD list of wealthy nations to

around seventeenth” (Carlyon & Morrow, 2013, p. 185). Yet the ‘golden weather’ is

fondly recalled as the time when you could leave the front door to your house open, or

unlocked, and nothing untoward would happen.

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A further deflating of the egalitarian myth occurred when the United Kingdom joined the

European Economic Community in January 1973 (BBC, 2008). When that happened,

New Zealand was cast adrift from its most reliable export market. Consequently, New

Zealand had to find itself new export partners in a globalising economy. While that period

reinforced the spirit of innovation, New Zealand began to find its own way in the world.

However, larger political and economic forces were at work. Those forces of

neoliberalism would forever change the face of what it meant to be a New Zealander.

Rogernomics was New Zealand’s initial foray into neoliberalism. Neoliberalism, as

Humpage (2017) observed, “constructs us all as self-interested, rational beings in pursuit

of material advantage, even if it contributes to growing inequalities and precarious work

lives for many citizens” (p. 121). By its very nature, neoliberalism promotes inequity.

In 2018, Aotearoa New Zealand lives in the shadow of neoliberalism. Constructs such as

user pays, private health and private education typify the growing void between rich and

poor. As Rashbrooke (2014) summed it up:

In the two decades from 1985 onwards, New Zealand had the biggest increase in income

gaps of any developed country. Incomes for the richest Kiwis doubled, while those of

the poorest stagnated. Middle income earners didn’t do too well either (para. 3).

Dispelling the Myth of Maleness: That Brawn is Valued More Than Brains

From the 1800s New Zealand’s early settlement

was dominated by men (Bentley, 2007; McAloon,

2008; Phillips, 2015). The physicality of settler’s

early whaling activities, land clearing, and

establishment of settlements necessitated strength

(see Figure 17). Those occupations were, without

modern technologies, not activities for the faint-

hearted.

Crotty (2001) observed that the pioneer man

“provided an imaginative escape from the effects

of an effeminate civilisation and were employed as

cultural symbols in the construction of rugged masculinity” (pp. 20-21). The resilience

and physical stoicism of Kiwi men was reinforced by war. As Loveridge (2013) related,

“when a doctor asked a New Zealand soldier in the Boer War why he was not killed when

Figure 17: Kauri logging gang,

1840.

Source: New Zealand Native

Riverwood (2016).

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he fell off a bridge he replied, ‘oh, New Zealanders are very tough’” (p. 131). Phillips

(1996) proposed that stereotyped ways of being a Pākehā man derived from two socio-

temporally unconnected occurrences. The first reflected the characteristics of the hard-

working pioneer settler man. The second emerged in the 1920s when it reflected the

development of that rough settler into an urbanised family man. Justifying his position,

Phillips (1996) used a weight-of-evidence argument inasmuch as men outnumbered

women in early settlement years. That ratio and its imbalance developed mateship, the

relationships between men within their work and leisure lives, in other words, their

homosociality. As Phillips (1996) observed, “drinking was without doubt the most

important and defining ritual of the male [settler] community” (p. 35).

As Pringle (2017) noted, “the image of the Pākehā [Kiwi] man is associated with

mateship, social independence, a do-it-yourself mentality, hard work, and rugged or risky

leisure pursuits such as rugby, hunting, gambling and binge drinking” (p. 203). Those

activities and characteristics have developed the archetypal Kiwi male, each reflecting

aspects of Phillip’s (1996) and Pringle’s (2017) stereotypes.

However, the roles of both men and women at the time of settlement, in Aotearoa New

Zealand, were highly prescribed. That prescription incorporated Hughes’ (2013)

construct of ‘separate spheres’. Separate spheres “rested on a definition of the ‘natural’

characteristics of women and men. Women were considered physically weaker yet

morally superior to men, which meant that they were best suited to the domestic sphere”

(para. 3). In 19th century New Zealand, this was enacted inasmuch as “women were

expected mostly to be wives, mothers and homemakers. Men were expected to support

their wives and children financially and to represent them in public affairs” (Else, 2011,

para. 3). Furthermore, wives held no property or economic rights: all money and property

belonged to their husbands (Else, 2011). As in many countries, at that time, the role of

women within wider socio-culture was compromised by biological determinants and a

social structure set up by men that gave preference to men.

However, to totally subscribe to that view is to only relate half of the story of gender roles

in Aotearoa New Zealand. While Aotearoa New Zealand was the first to give women the

right to vote (in 1893), and allow women to stand for parliament (from 1919), women

have made significant and often controversial contributions to the nation and to the

concept of being Kiwi. Those contributions represent a “site of struggle” (Cohen, 2012,

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p. 141) in which many women have engaged over prolonged periods of time. Those

struggles have benefitted men and women. Outstanding exemplars of women engaging

in struggle have included Ettie Rout25 and Helena Bernard26. Both women, in their

different ways, were ahead of their times. Rout and Bernard provided inspirational

leadership models for others to follow. Recognising this, I have suggested that the ‘birth

of a nation’ myth needed revising inasmuch as the myth currently negates the role of

women in the nation’s war history despite borrowing from their exclusive domain in

naming its origin as ‘birth’ (Neill, 2013).

Within the triad that encompasses the hard work needed for colonisation, the separate

spheres of gender and the inequitable experience of women in New Zealand’s socio-

culture, it is little surprise that the myth of maleness and brawn has prevailed. It is

evidenced today as Barton (2012) recounted:

In his essay The Public Intellectual is a Dog, Auckland University English Department

lecturer Stephen Turner sums up the problem: Just talking about public intellectuals

make you, or rather me in this case, a wanker rather than a well-rounded bloke (para.

3).

Again, this reflects that Kiwi intellectual contributions are bound in an unhealthy binary:

brains or brawn. That un-healthiness has been noted in Finch’s (2014) observation that

the innovative ‘number 8 wire’ thinking is actually not beneficial to the economy.

Illustrating the lack of value Kiwis place on intellectual property, Finch (2014) noted the

following stories:

In 1884 John Eustace, a Dunedin tinsmith, invented the airtight lid. This invention is

still used on containers such as paint cans and tins of golden syrup. He sent his prototype

to England to have a die made in order to mass-produce it but did not take out a patent

on it. Soon many British companies began making lids using the Eustace design. One

company even offered Eustace thousands of pounds for the rights to it, before realising

they could legally copy it for nothing. (para. 18)

In the 1880s Thomas Brydone and William Davidson pioneered the export of frozen

butter and mutton from New Zealand to Britain by retro-fitting a compression

refrigeration unit to the Dunedin. At the time, sheep were only farmed in New Zealand

for wool. Assorted experiments in refrigerated shipping had been attempted in the mid-

1870s – sometimes successful on a small scale – but generally not successful on a larger

scale. The first attempt to ship refrigerated sheep meat from Australia had resulted in

25 A World War One advocate of sexual health for servicemen. 26 A Kiwi housewife who baked four and a half tonnes of gingernuts and sent them to soldiers during

World Wars One and Two (Neill, 2013a).

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the loss of the whole cargo. Although founding an entirely new industry, Brydone and

Davidson obtained no formal IP protection for the method. (para. 19)

A new fruit that became popular in New Zealand from the 1930s was first named the

Chinese gooseberry, because the seeds had been imported from China. New Zealand

growers began exporting the fruit to the US in the 1950s. It was the height of the Cold

War and growers were advised to change the name to make their product more

politically appealing. The name ‘kiwifruit‘ was proposed in 1959 and later became

standard. However New Zealand growers did not register the ‘kiwifruit‘ trademark

internationally, so any country in the world could use it. Italy is now the world’s leading

kiwifruit producer. (para. 20)

There is more to Aotearoa New Zealand’s narrative than its male-centric history. In A

History of New Zealand Women, Brookes (2016) challenged Carlyle’s (1841/2018) view

that history was reflected in the biographies of great men. Instead, she posited that while

men helped the nation evolve, women forged its socio-culture. In doing so, Brookes

(2016) acknowledged the importance of the caring and nurturing roles of women,

characteristics that contributed to the nation’s development. Brookes‘ (2016) research

recognised women’s history and contemporary being as “site[s] of struggle” (Cohen,

2012, p. 141). Over time, that struggle has been reflected in the gender inequity that has

disadvantaged Māori and Pākehā women to varying degrees.

Society’s emphasis on women as homemakers and mothers has created a mind-set of

taken-for-granted-ness (Billig, 1995). Nonetheless, the position that caring is not valued

has been actively and contemporarily challenged (Brookes, 2016; Waring, 1988).

Brookes (2016) drew a parallel between the large number of war memorials throughout

New Zealand and Plunket Rooms. For her, Plunket Rooms represented memorials to

motherhood in that they were as valuable and

commonplace as the nation’s war memorials. In this way,

Brookes (2016) revealed the importance of women in

Anderson’s (1991) imagined communities and Billig’s

(1995) taken-for-granted nationalism.

Kiwi women have embraced – and in many cases

surpassed – the attributes unconditionally attributed to

Kiwi men. During the Depression in the 1930s, for

example, women’s innovation literally supported young

men. Figure 18 shows a pair of short liners, or underwear,

Figure 18: Flour bag shorts.

Source: Pollock (2013).

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made from discarded flour sacks. As Pollock (2013) noted, “The material was soft and

prevented the legs and buttocks from being chafed by the coarse wool of the shorts” (para.

1). In making something from nothing, women displayed the ‘number 8 wire’ attitude

generally attributed to men. Nonetheless, to dwell upon attributes in similar examples is

to continue to stereotype and to ignore women’s wider role in social history.

As early settlers, women were a minority. Their scarcity made them sought after (Elphick,

1975) and provided many with entrepreneurial opportunities. Consequently, women

worked on farms, became dressmakers or milliners (Brookes, 2016). These opportunities

contrasted with the class restrictions many had experienced in their home countries.

The opportunities were, however, tempered by legislation such as the Married Women’s

Property Act of 1884. Prior to Pākehā settlement, Māori women enjoyed full property

rights but with the enactment of this legislation, land owned by a Māori woman or settler

bride was forfeited in title to their husband. While opportunity benefitted some women,

legislation often did not.

Settler New Zealand was known as a drinker’s paradise. Early settler women were

instrumental in forming, in 1884, the Women’s Temperance Union. While this institution

had limited success in curtailing alcohol consumption, it was Kate Sheppard’s

Christchurch branch that facilitated the early stages of action promoting voting rights for

women. After a series of petitions and debate, women gained voting rights on 8

September 1893 (Brookes, 2016). Health concerns among the female population

prompted an initiative led by Ettie Rout to form the New Zealand Volunteer Sisterhood

with the goal of caring for soldiers in Egypt and for their sexual health in particular (Neill,

2013a). Rout advocated for prophylactics and recommended sexual services for soldiers

in Paris that met her pre-established hygiene standards (Neill, 2013a). Rout was ahead of

her time, although her initiatives were not embraced by the New Zealand or British

military. France, on the other hand, recognised Rout’s pioneering initiatives and awarded

her the Reconnaissance Française medal (Neill, 2013a).

Similarly, other women made significant contributions to the nation’s war effort. Many

wrote letters to soldiers, joined patriotic societies, baked or knitted items for soldiers

(Brookes, 2016; Neill, 2013). Exemplifying this was Helena Marion Bernard (also known

as the Gingernut Lady). Bernard made four and a half tonnes of gingernuts and sent the

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biscuits to soldiers during both World Wars (Neill, 2013a). World War Two, in particular,

provided further work opportunities for many Kiwi women. With the conscription of

306,000 men, women were called upon to undertake many of the jobs previously held by

men. Nonetheless, the return of men from war signalled a return to pre-war gender roles.

The opening up of the New Zealand economy and social changes from the 1960s onwards,

however, promoted a second wave of feminism and the heralding of “Girls can do

anything” (Cook, 2011, para. 1). By 2001, New Zealand was known as a “Women’s

Land” (New Statesman, 2001, as cited in Brookes, 2016, p. 471) with the four most

prominent positions – Prime Minister, Governor-General, Attorney-General and Chief

Justice – held by women. Women continue to play leading roles in the country’s

governance and businesses.

Another change that has, ironically, benefitted women has been the perception of the

homemaker as ‘domestic goddess‘.27 While the stereotype of woman as homemaker has

generated their taken-for-granted-ness, women including Englishwoman Nigella Lawson

and Kiwi Nadia Lim have turned domestic tasks into valued ways of being that have come

to contrast previous perceptions.

Despite women’s significant contributions to the constructs of nationhood, New

Zealand’s history is a work in progress. Brookes (2016) suggested that, as New Zealand

becomes more diverse because of inward migration and globalised technologies, the

nation’s future lies in the hands of young people. And as Brookes (2016) concluded, “We

now rely on them to imagine a future where the challenges of both respect for diversity

and a commitment to equality can be met” (p. 483).

Concluding the Literature Review

Kiwi identity and kiwiana represent male-centric values. These values began within the

characteristics that early Pākehā settlers brought with them or developed later. While an

abundance of literature exists discussing Kiwi identity, much of it uses the established

positions of the seminal authors upon which my literature review concentrates.

Consequently, as noted previously, I have not included derivative works in my literature

27 “A Domestic Goddess has skills in food, decorating, sewing, throwing a party, knitting, baking and

more. She may or may not be married. ‘She’ might even be male” (Urban Dictionary, 2018a, definition 3,

para. 2).

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review. Derivative research has nonetheless perpetuated Kiwi characteristics and their

manifestation within kiwiana and myth. Perpetuation has added currency to unchallenged

conceptions of kiwiana and Kiwi identity and necessitates their questioning. My

questioning strikes at the heart of being Pākehā, albeit in the guise of being and becoming

a Kiwi. In this way, my literature review has shown that, unlike Māori and Pākehā,

identifying as Kiwi does, by comparison, avoid the politics of identity inherent in being

Māori and Pākehā. Nonetheless, my literature review has also revealed that Kiwi identity

is not devoid of political rhetoric.

While contemporary research reinforces older, seminal literature, my literature review

has revealed that contemporary literature does not take account of migrant perspectives

on Kiwi identity and kiwiana, and so it identifies a gap in the literature to which my thesis

contributes. Similarly, my critical approach to existing literature highlights the

importance of my use of D. Bell’s (2003) mythscape inasmuch as mythscape recognises

socio-temporality. Using mythscape has enhanced my realisation that what was once

important and relevant may not be so important today; that the myths and materiality

supporting a Kiwi identity are changing. Consequently, mythscape has the potential to

reconstruct myth and identity by considering what my participants, as migrants, perceive

as relevant to Kiwi identity and kiwiana. These realisations provide rich and deep insights

which can inform and extend my findings in the final Discussion and Conclusion chapter

of the thesis.

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Chapter 5: Methodology

Precis: Chapter Overview

This chapter presents my research methodology and its application. To obtain and analyse

data I used qualitative approaches including qualitative description, PhotoVoice, focus

groups and interviews. Participant discussions through interview and focus groups were

transcribed and then thematically analysed. This chapter not only outlines those

processes, but also explores my methodological journey as a researcher.

This methodological journey has been critical to my research and professional growth. I

took my time. I considered multiple research frameworks before realising which one

provided my best method. What I had initially planned (hermeneutic phenomenology)

later proved unsuitable. My change from this to qualitative description reflected my

progression as researcher with the realisation that thinking about research and doing

research were, in many ways, dissimilar.

Consequently, this chapter explores and extends my research journey. Here, I present my

research methodology options, culminating in an explanation of how qualitative

description became my primary choice. I also explore how thematic analysis within

qualitative description revealed participant themes that hermeneutic phenomenology

could not. In this chapter, I also describe my pilot study, and how my participants used

PhotoVoice.

Introduction to Methodology

The operationalisation of my research knowledge base, and my conceptual and theoretical

frameworks, was realised in my selection of methodology. Over time my methodology

was adapted to best suit my research topic. Those iterative adaptations helped form my

method. My observations on this process followed Grant and Giddings (2002), who noted

that methodology concerns “the abstract theoretical assumptions and principles that

underpin a particular research approach, often developed within specific scientific or

social science disciplines. It guides how a researcher frames the research question and

decides on the process and methods to use” (p. 12). Further, Grant and Giddings (2002)

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suggested that “methods are the practical means, the tools, for collecting and analysing

data” (p. 12).

Initially, hermeneutic phenomenology was my preferred methodology. However, as I

became immersed in my participants’ data, I realised that hermeneutic phenomenology

did not fit with my participants’ experience. Hermeneutic phenomenology did not

illuminate my participant narratives to best research advantage. It was unsuitable because

it encouraged my over-interpretation of my participants’ data. Additionally, I considered

that the time I had spent with my participants was insufficient to adequately facilitate the

interpretation of their data that hermeneutic phenomenology required. That deficit

prompted my exploration of, and decision to use, qualitative description.

Introducing Qualitative Description

For Denzin and Lincoln (1994), qualitative description, like any other qualitative

methodology, is “multimethod in focus, involving an interpretive, naturalistic approach

to its subject matter” (p. 2). Vaismoradi, Jones, Turunen and Snelgrove (2016) suggested

that it provides “an in-depth, socio-contextual and detailed description of the research

topic … because it describes and interprets participant perspectives” (p. 100).

Sandelowski (2000) suggested that “there is no comprehensive description of qualitative

description” (p. 335). Lambert and Lambert (2012) noted “the goal of qualitative

descriptive studies is a comprehensive summarization, in everyday terms, of specific

events experienced by individuals or groups of individuals” (p. 255).

For me, the everyday nature of this method suited it to vernacular topics including identity

and materiality. Kim, Sefcik and Bradway (2016) proposed that qualitative descriptive

inquiry was important in “discovering the who, what and where of events or experiences

[especially for a] poorly understood phenomenon” (p. 23). Consequently, they suggested

that this method is often associated with research seeking to “explore ... describe ...

identify ... understand [and/or] investigate its topic” (p. 26).

Sandelowski (2000) noted four themes relevant to qualitative description. Firstly,

qualitative description is categorical inasmuch as while this methodology has always

existed, it has been a largely unacknowledged research domain. Also, qualitative

description is “less interpretive than interpretive description” (Sandelowski, 2000, p. 335)

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because researchers do not move far from the data. Thirdly, this methodology does not

require “conceptual or otherwise highly abstract rendering of the data” (Sandelowski,

2000, p. 335) as it represents a research endpoint, rather than an entry point.

Cumulatively, these positions mean qualitative description is a “valuable method by

itself” (Sandelowski, 2000, p. 335) and best suits research that explores participant

experience from the participant’s perspective. Sandelowski’s (2000) views reinforced my

decision to use qualitative description.

Kim et al. (2016) proposed that qualitative description facilitated research flexibility.

Specifically, they noted that qualitative description is best suited to research within

naturalistic settings, interviews and focus group situations because it provides “straight

forward ... comprehensive descriptive summaries” (p. 24). These attributes, they asserted,

provide broad insights through the gathering of rich data. In turn, these attributes build

upon Lambert and Lambert’s (2012) notion that qualitative description is the “design of

choice when a straightforward description of a phenomenon is desired” (p. 256).

Kim et al. (2016) also suggested that using thematic analysis within qualitative

description provides the readers of the research with a better understanding of the research

topic, especially through its findings. The combination of qualitative description and

thematic analysis reflects Sandelowski’s (2010) earlier observation that “in the actual

world of research practice, methods bleed into each other; they are so much messier than

textbook depictions” (p. 81).

A dearth of academic literature outlining qualitative description is evident (Kim et al.,

2016; Sandelowski, 2000). In a systematic review of qualitative description, Kim et al.

(2016) found only “seven ‘how-to’ articles and … most authors [of them] referenced

Sandelowski” (p. 23). This has led to the misconception that qualitative description is

Sandelowski’s. In her article, “What’s in a name? Qualitative description revisited”,

Sandelowski (2010) acknowledged she was aware of the attribution of qualitative

description to her, but she refuted ownership of it.

Qualitative description also lacks academic status. Thorne, Kirkham and MacDonald-

Emes (1998) suggested that qualitative description was the “crudest form of inquiry” (p.

170). Even Sandelowski (2000) recognised qualitative description’s lacklustre academic

status. She suggested it was “less sexy [than other] theoretically and technically

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sophisticated (qualitative) methods” (p. 334). Nevertheless, she recommended that the

“basic and fundamental” (p. 335) aspects of qualitative description represented its

strengths. In this way, through her choice of words, Sandelowski (2000) drew attention

to how language influenced perceptions of methodological credibility and efficacy.

However, for Sandelowski (2000), “basic and fundamental” (p. 335) constituted “low

impact” (p. 335) research inasmuch as qualitative description reduced researcher ‘spin’

through over-interpretation. As such, qualitative description promoted “descriptive

validity or an accurate accounting of the meanings participants attributed to those events

that those participants would agree is accurate” (p. 336). Qualitative description was the

methodology best suited for my research because of those attributes and its ability to add

“descriptive validity” (p. 335). Qualitative description enabled the narratives of my

participants to be told without the ‘white noise’ other methodologies might bring.

Consequently, in using qualitative description, I avoided the tendency to over-interpret

participant data while capitalising on the advantages noted by Sandelowski (2000),

Lambert and Lambert (2012) and Kim et al. (2016).

Applying Qualitative Description

Two primary considerations prompted my use of qualitative description. Firstly, it linked

to my research topic because with this method I was able to “explore ... describe ...

identify ... understand and investigate” my topic (Kim et al., 2016, p. 26) in a

straightforward way. For me, these approaches suited the vernacular nature of Kiwi

identity and kiwiana.

Secondly, qualitative description accommodated worldview diversity within its “low

impact” (Sandelowski, 2000, p. 335) presentation of the research data. Applied to my

research, that positioned qualitative description as fundamental to the accurate

representation of my participants’ data. I extended qualitative description’s attributes

through my participants’ use of PhotoVoice, and through focus groups and interviews.

These extensions each facilitated a greater depth of participant input that contributed to

rich qualitative description. Combined with and applied to my research, qualitative

description meant that I remained close to the data.

Even more exciting and challenging, but of great benefit to my research, was the fact that

qualitative description emphasises minimal data interpretation by the researcher

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(Sandelowski, 2000). I understood that benefit as data-derived themes became evident

earlier in my thematic analysis phase and as themes became reinforced by other

participants’ inputs. This was of critical importance. In my research, the emergent themes

came from the data itself and not from any preconceived category. In these ways, my

actions and realisations aligned to Sandelowski’s (2000) recommendation that emergent

themes were exactly that: they were not preconceived researcher categories.

Consequently, my research findings accurately reflected the data I had collected in real

and meaningful ways that avoided its over-interpretation. These procedures and my

Findings chapter reflect a process of co-creation. As a researcher, I found this amalgam

to be yet another reason why qualitative description was best suited to my research.

I aligned my use of qualitative description with Vaismoradi et al.’s (2016)

recommendation of using thematic analysis. That process is explained in the next section.

Thematic Analysis

Thematic analysis and qualitative description have a number of things in common

(Vaismoradi, Turunen, & Bondas, 2013). Both domains share a similar philosophical

background, paying attention to interpretation and description, as well as emphasising the

importance of emergent themes (Vaismoradi et al., 2013). Braun and Clarke (2006) noted

these connections, indicating that thematic analysis was “a method for identifying,

analysing, and reporting patterns (themes) within data” (p. 6). As a technique, thematic

analysis shows that themes do not independently emerge from the data. Rather thematic

analysis provides the tool with which researchers identify emergent themes in the co-

creation of research (Braun & Clarke, 2006). In this way, in my research, thematic

analysis facilitated my role as the researcher and the participants’ contribution in the

construction of data.

This recognises a key component of qualitative description inasmuch as the identification

of themes within the data was an iterative activity founded within my data and my

participants’ knowledge. Creswell (2013) suggested that themes are “broad units of

information that consist of several codes aggregated to form a common idea” (p. 186).

He observed that theme and sub-theme combine to create a structure similar to that of a

family tree. Bryman (2008), on the other hand, agreed with Sandelowski (2000) and

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Braun and Clarke (2006) that the work of thematic analysis was not “an identifiable

approach” (p. 554) in itself.

To begin my thematic analysis work, I followed the recommendations of Sandelowski

(2000), Braun and Clarke (2006), Creswell (2013) and Vaismoradi et al. (2013).

However, as I came to reflect on the themes I obtained, I began to feel that ‘something

was missing’. That feeling prompted me to investigate using NVivo28. In exploring my

data using NVivo, I discovered a range of new themes that better illuminated my

participants’ data. Consequently, my themes reflects the amalgam of my previous

manually-created thematic data and the overlay of themes and information gleaned from

NVivo (see Chapter 6: Findings).

PhotoVoice: Background and Method

PhotoVoice is a useful research tool that has helped minority groups to gain a voice within

dominating socio-cultures (Pritzker, LaChapelle, & Tatum, 2012). Photo-images,

including those generated in PhotoVoice research, are potent symbols representing more

than the image itself (Sontag, 1979). Photo-images are actant aides de memoire. Rush,

Murphy and Kozak (2012) suggested that PhotoVoice “offers participants editorial

control in focusing the symbolic process as a way to visually represent” (p. 450) their

worldviews. Prosser and Loxley (2008) noted that “PhotoVoice, along with photo-

narratives and photo-novella, were variants of reflexive photo-participation” (p. 31). For

Johansen and Le (2014), PhotoVoice represented “a method rooted in three theoretical

frameworks: feminist theory, arguing for inclusion; critical consciousness, embedded in

Freire’s (1970) idea of self-reflection; and documentary photography as a means to social

reform” (p. 552).

PhotoVoice came to prominence through Wang and Burris’s (1997) research. Wang

(1999) commented that

PhotoVoice has three main goals: to enable people (1) to record and reflect their

community’s strengths and concerns, (2) to promote critical dialogue and knowledge

about personal and community issues through large and small group discussion of their

photographs, and (3) to reach policymakers. (p. 185)

28 A software programme suited to mixed methods/qualitative research using the concept of sources,

nodes and coding (Edhlund & McDougall, 2017).

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Jensen, Kaiwai, McCreanor and Barnes (2006) used PhotoVoice in their research in

Aotearoa New Zealand and found it useful in the following ways:

PhotoVoice is a tool for understanding and social change.

Photographs are both data and stimulus to articulation of meaning.

PhotoVoice works with marginalised voices including young people.

PhotoVoice works through empowerment, serious reflection and safe process.

“PhotoVoice produces competence, critical awareness and change resources [that

consequently means it] is well-suited for gathering data that highlight issues or

features of value, importance or concern for communities in a robust and arresting

manner” (p. 7).

Several other Kiwi researchers have successfully used PhotoVoice. They include:

Bukowski and Buetow (2011) in their research on homeless women’s health, and Jones,

Ingham, Cram, Dean and Davies (2013) in their longitudinal research on asthma in Māori

families. As Pritzker et al. (2012) recounted, PhotoVoice “has been used globally with

marginalized and disempowered populations, helping them gain a voice to create change

in their local environments” (p. 2248).

My research PhotoVoice operationalisation is noted in my adaptation of Jensen et al.’s

(2006) framework (See Figure 19).

Figure 19: PhotoVoice research operationalisation.

Participant

Recruitment Meeting 1

Meet participants/discuss themes Secure Ethics

Tips on effective

photography/safety privacy Camera use guidelines

Participants take images and

‘thought’ notes

Meeting 2: Focus Group

and Interviews SHOWED

Images printed for

discussion: images distilled

/selected/coded/discussed

Reflecting participant meaning /

interpretations Findings compilation

Note. Adapted from Jensen et al. (2006).

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Extending PhotoVoice, Hergenrather, Rhodes, Cowan and Bardhoshi (2009) noted that

“participants present their photos during a facilitated discussion by contextualizing and

often using root-cause questioning known by the mnemonic SHOWED” (pp. 687-688).

SHOWED incorporates six participant questioning steps including:

What do you See?

What is really Happening here?

How does this relate to Our lives?

Why does this concern, situation, strength exist?

How can we become Empowered through our new understanding?

What can we Do?.

PhotoVoice: Advantages and Disadvantages

The advantages of using PhotoVoice are encapsulated by Scarles’s (2012) observation

that photography

becomes a means of personalising knowledge exchange as photographs are brought into

existence through respondent subjectivity and engagement with the research

environment as lived [original emphasis]. Indeed, just as photographs become imbued

within the context of the research, respondents become imbued [original emphasis]

within photographs that are taken as they commit themselves to an entirely embodied,

emotional and sensual agent within the research area. (pp. 74-75)

Scarles’s (2012) positive observations of PhotoVoice use are extended through Heery’s

(2013) suggestions that PhotoVoice:

aids communication between unequal power groups;

promotes feelings and emotions and thought, offering a deeper participant perspective

that can negate literacy demands;

sharpens participant observation;

provides an ‘insider’s‘ multi-layered interpretation led by vision, complemented by

words; and

challenges existing ‘structures’ by combining participant reality and vision,

uncovering the participants’ private worldview-schema.

Nonetheless, PhotoVoice has limitations. As Sharma (2010) emphasised, participants’

judgements influence the images they took, and photo-images are open to multiple and

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subjective interpretations. Sharma (2010) also observed that photography captures a

moment in time, and, consequently may not reflect the dynamic nature of social realities.

Cognisant of Sharma’s (2010) view, Heery (2013) identified further disadvantages:

photography often intrudes the space of others;

privacy/confidentiality issues;

reflecting the decisions of what to ‘take’ and what not to ‘take’;

photograph ownership;

bias of content from participant and researcher; and

subject consent.

Pilot Study: Overview

Pilot studies foster research rigour. Bryman (2008) suggested that pilot studies are

“always desirable” (p. 247). Burns and Grove (2009) noted that pilot studies are important

because they offer an opportunity for the researcher to refine their methodology.

I conducted my pilot studies in September and October 2015, applying Moxham’s (2012)

methods. My aim in conducting my pilot studies was to enhance my research participants’

experience. I believed that a fluid participant experience would also deliver a better

quality of research data. My aim was to identify problems, strengthen my methods and

make any adaptations that would make my research more pleasurable and engaging for

my participants and myself. Consequent to my pilot study, adaptations and changes were

indeed later applied to my research.

My pilot study used six participants: two from each participating cohort (see Table 21,

below). One participant from each group was located through my established community

contacts. The second participant was identified using ‘snowball sampling’ (Bryman

(2008). While pilot participants matched the research selection criteria, their data was not

used in my final research.

My pilot study also adapted Jensen et al.’s (2006) PhotoVoice operationalisation (see

Figure 19, above) and included my participants’ use of my PhotoVoice safety protocol

(see Appendix A).

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Table 20: Overview of pilot participants.

Chinese 1 male, aged 28

1 female, aged 26

NZ resident: 2 years

NZ resident: 3 years

Latin American 2 females, aged 22 and 24 NZ resident: 2.5 years

NZ resident: 2 years

Pacific Island 1 male, aged 30

1 female, aged 45

NZ resident: 18 months

NZ resident: 2.5 years

Pilot Study Findings: Chinese Participants

I met my two Chinese pilot study participants for an early morning breakfast in

Auckland’s central business district. Our discussion centred on the Participant

Information Sheet (PIS) and my PhotoVoice Safety Protocol. We discussed mobile-phone

use, participant note taking and any concerns and questions they raised. Both participants

were very enthusiastic about my research and their role in it. They had no hesitation in

asking questions. From that meeting I noted and actioned the following points (my

responses are italicised).

Participants were unsure what kiwiana meant:

When asked which tangible items of Chinese culture might reflect a Chinese identity, both

participants related many items. Then, I asked them to apply that same thinking to

Aotearoa New Zealand. I asked them not to Google kiwiana or Kiwi identity.

Participants expressed their belief that Kiwi identity and kiwiana were the same thing:

I was clear that there was no easy answer to this question as both constructs were linked.

I encouraged them simply to tell me what they thought constituted each domain and that

there were no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ answers.

Participants wished to use their own mobile devices for image taking and not the

devices I supplied:

This was a good idea. I decided from that request that participants using their own mobile

phone would receive $15 cash to cover internet and other costs. That payment matched

the preloaded amount on researcher-supplied mobile phones.

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One participant (a graphic artist) asked if she could draw images rather than

photograph them:

I encouraged this believing that it may provide enhanced participant insight.

We agreed that they would collect their images of Kiwi identity and kiwiana within two

weeks.

I held a follow-up meeting on November 20, 2015. Both participants enthusiastically

reported that they had experienced no problems in taking their images. One participant’s

images combined themes of kiwiana and Kiwi identity. The other participant captured

separate images for each theme. As I came to understand it, the former participant, in

combining images, reflected a high level of research comfort inasmuch as they did not

hesitate in combining these themes. The images capturing both Kiwi identity and kiwiana

were not perceived, by me, to be problematic: however, they might need more discussion

time within focus group meetings. These were the images taken by my Chinese pilot

participants of images reflecting Kiwi identity:

Figure 20: Humour

is everywhere.

Figure 21: Lord of the

Rings.

Figure 22: Primitive

and modern.

Figure 23: Kiwi

identity.

“Kiwi bird, national bird of NZ, definitely the identity of

Kiwis. I overheard because it is so rare that New Zealanders

call themselves ‘Kiwis’”.

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Images reflecting kiwiana included:

Figure 24: Karicare.

Figure 25: All Blacks.

Figure 26: Kiwi wine.

Their commentary in capturing Kiwi identity and kiwiana included:

“Kiwi Identity: Food safety is a great identity of Kiwi world. I never quite questioned

about this point of view. I can have a steak cooked rare and enjoy it without having to

worry of getting sick, where travellers from China, especially, would not dare to try.”

“Kiwiana: Such quality life requires working very hard and being consistent. Food

safety is generally mentioned at quite high level in New Zealand. Kiwis are sometimes

considered as ‘stubborn’ from immigrants’ eyes, generally speaking, Kiwis are good at

following standards and controlling quality. That is why New Zealand can offer

numbers of high-quality products to the world.”

“Kiwi Identity: If I talk about New Zealand, I have to mention about the natural

environment. Therefore, I also think it is identifying Kiwis as an immigrant.”

“Kiwiana: New Zealanders contribute to maintain the image of pureness. People are

normally managing life wastage, e.g. rubbish, and having similar understanding of

sustainable lifestyle.”

Figure 28: Kiwi identity and

kiwiana.

Figure 27: Kiwi identity

and kiwiana.

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Pilot Study Findings: Pacific Island Participants

Meeting this group for coffee and cake, I went over the PIS and PhotoVoice Safety

Protocol. Both participants asked questions. Emergent themes from their discussion

included (with my responses in italics):

What were the differences between Kiwi identity and kiwiana?

The difference was explained as ‘ways of being’ (Kiwi identity), and the objects and

things (materiality) that reflect kiwiana (the same issue as raised by Chinese

participants).

Technology issues: activating the mobile phones’ cameras, and sending data:

There were technical issues setting up the mobile phone and its ability to send images.

My Pacific Island participants agreed to a four-week pilot period. A follow-up meeting

was held on October 16, 2015. Both participants stated that they had enjoyed their pilot

experience. Their feedback provided valuable changes to my final method. Feedback

from my Pasifika pilot group is noted in Table 22.

Table 21: Pacific Island pilot study feedback.

TOPICS OPERATION CONSIDERATION

Initial discussion

was clear and

concise.

Participants use own phone and receive

payment of $15 cash, or use supplied phone.

The supplied phone was considered too

complicated.

Be mindful of language ... use

simple language.

What is Kiwi

identity and

kiwiana?

Upload to Instagram. Allow time and space for

language ‘digestion’.

The following changes were made to my method consequent to this group’s feedback:

Participants using their own mobile phones receive $15 cash.

Images to be uploaded to Instagram, not cloud storage.

Researcher to use simple language, avoiding academic jargon.

Discussion is an important construct in Pacific Island culture.

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Participants will be given as much time as possible to

discuss images.

Participants recommended the researcher clarify the term

‘kiwiana’ by defining it for participants as ‘tangible items

reflecting Kiwi identity’.

One image (see Figure 29) reflecting Kiwi identity from the

Pacific Island group shows friends relaxing in Auckland’s

Albert Park.

“We sat in the park relaxing. [Sam said] I’m glad you fellas don’t have work. Let’s chill

and play some touch.”

Pilot Study Findings: Latin American Participants

Consistent with my other meetings, I met my Latin American participants for coffee and

cake in a downtown Auckland café. At this meeting, my emphasis was on communicating

the PIS and PhotoVoice Safety Protocol and fully answering any questions. There were

no emergent themes from this meeting. This group also agreed to a four-week pilot period.

A follow-up meeting was held on January 8, 2016. My two Latinx pilot participants had

worked collaboratively on collecting their photo-images and had emailed them to me.

They classified their images within three domains:

Place

Idiosyncrasy

Material

The group identified place as “the recognition of a space through symbols influencing

collecting, memory, language, tradition and daily activity.” They extended this to include

beaches and lakes – natural diversity, high-contrast landscapes and conditions

encouraging people to engage in outdoor activities. They noted a Kiwi commitment to

the environment. They recounted that most Kiwis live in close proximity to the sea and/or

outdoor spaces. They suggested that farming was not only the country’s most important

economic activity, but also a lifestyle option.

Their images exemplified those domains:

Figure 29: Chilling in

the park.

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Figure 30: Outdoors.

Figure 31: Farm.

Figure 32:

Multiculturalism.

This group defined idiosyncrasy as “a group of inherited or acquired characteristics

defining distinctive attributes of a group.” For them, these characteristics identified the

similarities of behaviour and social customs/culture and extended them to include

linguistic and creative expression.

For this group, the graphic symbolism of Māori culture was evidenced through artistic

expression, social customs, language and place names.

Figure 33: Cultural

tattoo.29

Figure 34: Māori culture.

Figure 35: Social customs.

The group defined material as “the result of creating or producing objects or products that

physically represent the cultural tradition of a region.”

29 This tattoo design is from the Pacific Islands. It is not a traditional Māori tattoo.

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Figure 36: Muffins.

Figure 37: Shoppers.

Figure 38: Home.

My Latinx pilot participants framed their images within three domains that sat outside of

Kiwi identity and kiwiana. While I did not verbalise this to my Latinx ‘pilots’, I began to

realise that framing the work in this way may be problematic should any of my actual

participants decide to undertake it. This made me consider ‘what if’? Fortunately, this

type of participant classification did not occur in my final research.

Pilot Study Conclusions

Providing participants with a mobile phone with a camera was problematic. Issues arose

around the phone settings. Also, most participants already owned a mobile device with a

camera. Consequently, I decided to:

Give participants the option to either use their own mobile devices to take photos or

a supplied device. If the former, participants received $15 to cover email and

connection costs. Participants choosing the supplied device were able to keep their

phones after the research concluded.

Allow participants to capture images other than through photography, such as

drawing, painting or otherwise illustrating their constructs of kiwiana and Kiwi

identity.

Give participants the option to either upload their images to a researcher-created

Instagram account or to email them directly to the researcher.

Create an Instagram account for each participant group. In the end, this was not used

by my research participants.

Recognise that research groups may need additional time to discuss their images in

focus group and/or interview sessions.

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Keep my communication simple and easy to understand by using plain English, not

academic language.

Simplify the definition of kiwiana to: tangible items reflecting Kiwi identity.

Allow participants to use one image to show both constructs (Kiwi identity and

kiwiana) but to differentiate their meanings (as in the Chinese pilot study) in focus

group or interview discussions.

To understand my participant experiences of PhotoVoice, I undertook my own

PhotoVoice image capture. My images and associated commentary are presented in

Appendix D.

Main Research Study: An Overview

Ethics

My research was approved by AUT’s Ethics Committee (AUTEC) on September 3, 2015,

under reference 15/306. I conducted all of my research work within AUTEC guidelines.

I was acutely aware that without willing participants my research would not be possible.

I was keen to create a positive research environment for my participants. As they were

volunteers, I believed it was important that, should any of my participants be asked to

participate in any other future research work, their experience with me would be an

encouragement to do so. I am pleased to report that neither participants nor researcher

experienced any unethical situations during this research.

Trustworthiness/Reliability and Validity

Silverman (2004) suggested that informed and professional qualitative research was

important since “the issues of reliability and validity are important, because in them the

objectivity and credibility of social science research is at stake” (p. 283). Qualitative

research’s subjective emphasis and reliance on interpretation means it is open to bias, the

prevailing attitudes and perspectives which may negatively influence the trustworthiness

of the research outcome. According to Lincoln and Guba (1985) “there are four

components of trustworthiness that are relevant to qualitative research: truth value;

applicability; consistency; and neutrality” (p. 11).

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For Smith and Heshusius (1986), naturalistic research can “only offer an interpretation of

the interpretations of others” (p. 7). Nevertheless, for qualitative researchers such as

Lincoln and Guba (1985), the notion of trustworthiness was simply expressed in the

response to the following question: “How can an inquirer persuade his or her audiences

that the research findings of an inquiry are worth paying attention to?” (p. 11). For me,

qualitative description and my staying close to my participants’ data, without unnecessary

or excessive interpretation, ensured not only the transparency of the research process but

also its trustworthiness.

Additionally, in my research, the reliability of the qualitative method was reflected in the

analysis and the coding practice that I used to generate categories and data themes. As

Dixon, Bouma and Atkinson (1992) indicated, “the more agreement there is in coding

observations, the more reliable [is] the instrument” (p. 102). The proof of trustworthiness

in terms of the efficacy, reliability and validity of this research lies in my final work: this

thesis. In this way, my research concurs with Lincoln and Guba’s (1985) observation that

“a qualitative study is credible when it presents such accurate descriptions or

interpretations of human experiences that people who also share that experience would

immediately recognize the descriptions” (p. 11). Consequently, qualitative research such

as mine is typically rich in detail and insights into participants’ experiences of the world

that may “be epistemologically in harmony with the reader’s experience, and thus more

meaningful” (Stake, 1978, p. 5).

Defining and Locating Research Participants

I defined my participants in the following ways:

Pacific Islanders: Those born in Samoa, Tonga, Fiji, Vanuatu or the Solomon Islands,

but excluding those born in Tokelau, Niue or the Cook Islands because these ‘Pacific

Islanders’ have automatic right of entry into Aotearoa New Zealand and cannot be

considered migrants.

Chinese: A person of Chinese nationality born in the Chinese territories (including

Hong Kong) (Chinese Immigration Department, 2012).

Latin Americans: Those born in one of the following 17 countries: Mexico;

Guatemala; Salvador; Honduras; Nicaragua; Costa Rica, Panama; Venezuela;

Colombia; Ecuador; Peru; Brazil; Bolivia; Paraguay; Uruguay; Chile; or Argentina.

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In recording New Zealand residency statistics between 2006 and 2017, for Pacific

Islanders, Chinese and Latin Americans, The Ministry of Business, Innovation and

Enterprise (2017a) noted the following data on changes in numbers:

Pacific Islands: 16.04% loss (2006/07: 5,424 residents; 2016/17: 4,674).

Chinese: 24.79% growth (2006/07: 5,846 residents; 2016/17: 7,295).

Latin American: 101.78% growth (2006/07: 393 residents; 2016/17: 793).

Participant Research Selection Criteria

My participants were selected according to the following criteria (see the Participant

Information Sheet and Consent Form in Appendix B):

Latin American, Pacific Islander or Chinese as primary self-identifier.

Aged 20 years or older.

Arrived in Aotearoa New Zealand within the past three years.

Competency in spoken English.

Able to use a mobile phone/camera.

Finding the Participants

In the process of recruiting my participants, there were no dependent relationships

between any participant and myself. I recruited participants using the snowball technique.

Commonly called “snowball sampling”, it is described by Boise State University (2017)

as “a recruitment technique in which research participants are asked to assist researchers

in identifying other potential subjects” (para. 1). Snowball sampling benefited my

research because it helped me to create a user-friendly and positive research environment.

This, as Atkinson and Flint (2001) noted, provided a sound way to meet minority

populations, especially those who are “vulnerable and [members of the] more

impenetrable social groupings” (p. 1).

How Participants Gathered Data

Eighteen individuals made up my three participant groups (see the “Participant Selection

Criteria”, above). I asked that each participant take no more than 10 photo-images of

items they believed reflected Kiwi identity and/or kiwiana. The ‘and/or’ was important.

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It allowed participants to construct the research themes as they experienced them and

blend themes of Kiwi identity and kiwiana if they found that necessary.

To gather their images, I offered each participant a mobile phone with camera. Most

participants declined, opting instead to use their own mobile devices.

Having selected my prospective participants, I then met each one individually to discuss

and clarify my research. These meetings gave me an opportunity to get to know my

participants, and to create a friendly research relationship. I met all participants in a social

setting and I did not limit my time with them. Rather, after I had outlined my research, I

allowed them time to consider it and to ask questions until we were both comfortable and

confident in what was to come next in the research. All participants were given my contact

details and invited to call me at any stage should they have further questions.

Cognisant of the PhotoVoice Safety Protocol (see Appendix A), my participants only

began to take their photo-images after they had been fully briefed and their questions

answered. All participants agreed to a four-week period to complete their task and email

their images to me. Colour copies of their images were printed onto A4 paper and given

to participants at their focus group or interview meeting.

From the focus group or interview, my research findings were distilled from two primary

sources: participant-authored images and their recorded conversations about them.

Afterwards, I thematically analysed the text of the transcribed conversations. My

approach reflected Creswell’s (2007) recommendation that themes emerge from “broad

units of information ... aggregated to form a common idea [theme]” (p. 186).

With their printed photo-images in hand, I asked each participant to select their top five

images of kiwiana and Kiwi identity. In doing so, my participants created a hierarchy of

images by selecting the five that meant the most to them. They were then asked to

prioritise them, #1 being the participant’s most important photo-image and #5 their least

important. Again, this created a hierarchy of importance through self-selection.

I then asked my participants to add their initials and label ‘K’ (for kiwiana) or ‘ID’ (for

Kiwi identity) to each numbered image. This was the first step in finalising the photo-

image coding. Prioritising the photo-images facilitated a logical discussion order which

also promoted effective facilitator and researcher time management of the focus groups

and interviews. Photo-image ordering also reduced 360 images to a more manageable

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180. However, the number of images in my final research is less than this because some

participants brought similar images to others and because time constraints limited the

research.

Table 23 presents focus group and follow-up interview participant numbers.

Table 22: Participant focus group and interview attendances.

Group Number Attending Focus

Groups

Participants Interviewed

Outside Focus Group

Latin American 3 3

Chinese 3 3

Pacific Island 5 1

In each focus group or interview discussion, participants began with their most important

image (#1). Ten images (five on Kiwi identity and five on kiwiana) were then sequentially

worked through within the sessions. In some cases, image discussion represented the

experiences of more than one participant.

All focus group and interview meetings were digitally sound recorded. Later, I transcribed

their entire content and identified data themes. A useful base for questioning participants

was Hergenrather et al.’s (2009) SHOWED mnemonic. However, I found that while it

facilitated consistent questioning, it was not a perfect fit for my research work. Table 24,

below, outlines how I adapted it to suit my study.

Table 23: SHOWED – Application and research adaptation.

Acronym Application Research Adaptation

S What do you See? No adaptation

H What is really Happening here? No adaptation

O How does this relate to Our lives? How does this image relate to YOUR life?

W Why does this concern, situation,

strength exist?

Why did you take this image?

E How can we become Empowered

through our new understanding?

In what ways does this image look towards the

future?

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D What can we Do? Why did you select this image over others?

Note. Adapted from Hergenrather et al. (2009).

My adaptations to SHOWED facilitated deeper researcher and participant understandings

of the PhotoVoice images and, through the adapted questions, benefited my research by

adding depth.

Focus Groups

Using focus groups to gather my data promoted participant interaction. Focus groups have

the advantage of providing a supportive, synergistic environment that often gleans more

in-depth data than other qualitative methods (The Ohio State University, 2012).

My focus groups were held on Saturday afternoons, a time that best suited my

participants. All focus group meetings were held in a comfortable room at AUT and began

with lunch and refreshments being made available to participants. This gave me, the

participants and the moderator/facilitator time to get to know one another and to relax.

I led the focus group sessions with participant introductions. This served to formalise the

session after the relaxed atmosphere we all enjoyed over lunch. Then, I explained my

research and introduced the session moderator/facilitator and explained the role that they

would play within the focus group. Attendees were invited to ask questions at any time.

Then, the facilitator convened the group. I sat quietly, operating the recording devices

and making observational notes. Participants had already been informed that they could

request a copy of the recording and any notes I had made. Reflecting transparent practice,

I believed that this was an important step. It showed my willingness to share data and

underlined the importance I placed on what was said and shared. It was important to me

that my research approach was inclusive and transparent.

The moderator/facilitator convened the session using the amended SHOWED format

(Hergenrather, et al., 2009) (see the Facilitator Briefing Sheet, Appendix C). Focus group

meetings lasted between two and three hours.

Moderation/Facilitation for Focus Groups

As indicated above, each focus group was convened by a moderator/facilitator. As

Murray (2012) noted, “a facilitator is a person who helps a group achieve its purpose” (p.

8). In selecting a moderator/facilitator I was aware that, to be effective, that person needed

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to have specific skills. For me, the moderator/facilitator needed to have an open mind, be

keen to learn about the SHOWED approach (Hergenrather, et al., 2009), and be open to

extending participant discussions in enthusiastic, non-judgmental and positive ways. To

facilitate these goals, I developed Table 25. Table 25 identifies the skill-sets I understood

to be important for an effective moderator/facilitator.

Table 24: Moderator/facilitator skill sets and rationale.

Skill Operationalisation Rationale

Speak the

participants’ first

language

Realising participant narratives in

two language ‘spaces’.

Using first language provided participant

comfort. Participants were encouraged to

speak in English or their own first

language.

Translation skills The facilitator translated

participant first-language narratives

for the researcher.

The researcher speaks only English.

Comfort in using

SHOWED

The researcher spent as much time

as needed to ensure the facilitator

was familiar, comfortable and able

to use (an amended) SHOWED

method in a professional yet user-

friendly manner.

The (amended) SHOWED method is vital

to this research. It forms the basis of the

questioning from which participant

narrative emerged.

Overall knowledge

about the research

The researcher spent as much time

as needed to inform each facilitator

of the ‘big picture’ of this research.

Facilitators needed to have a general

knowledge of the research aims and

objectives so that they realised how and

where the (amended) SHOWED approach

fitted within the larger research project.

Friendly, democratic

disposition

Facilitators were asked to create,

encourage and mentor an equitable

research space.

Creating a friendly research space was

vital if the research was to elicit the depth

within the data.

Ability to ‘leave

space’

Facilitators were encouraged to

leave silences in their presentation

of SHOWED.

This strategy encouraged participants to

speak without questioning prompts.

Confidence to refer

to the researcher

Facilitators were encouraged to

talk with the researcher during the

sessions.

This alleviated any pressures for the

facilitator should any narrative drift into

undesired areas (e.g., illegal activity)

Note. Adapted from Hergenrather et al. (2009).

Guiding the development of these skills were the recommendations of Hunter, Bailey and

Taylor (1996) and Murray (2012). Hunter et al. (1996) noted that “a facilitator intervenes

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to protect the group process and to keep the group on track to fulfil its task” (p. 36).

Murray (2012) noted that “the facilitator intentionally shares power with the participants

in a cooperative manner rather than having power over them in an autocratic way” (p.

28).

In order to find moderator/facilitators, I began by emailing group members for their

recommendations and included the skill-set requirements noted in Table 25. From their

feedback I compiled a list of possible candidates. I worked through that list sequentially,

narrowing it down by meeting each prospective moderator/facilitator, assessing their

willingness to do the task and how I got on with them. It was important that the

moderator/facilitator and I had a positive working relationship. From those meetings, I

made my final decisions. Each facilitator was paid $150. The payment was necessary

because the facilitator was required to read and apply the information I supplied them

about the adapted SHOWED questioning technique. Payment also included the

facilitator’s translation of any non-English dialogue by participants.

Interviews: A Focus Group Deviation

While the methodology provided a theoretical framework for the research, its

operationalisation through method was adapted as my research situations changed. I

origionally aimed to conduct three focus group sessions, one with each participant group.

This did not work out as planned. Not all participants attended their focus group sessions

for a number of reasons. Severe stormy weather contributed to absences among the

Chinese and Latin American focus groups.

I interviewed seven participants who were unavailable to attend the moderator/facilitator-

run focus group sessions. Consequently, I had to conduct ‘catch-up’ interviews. I ran

those interviews in the same way as the focus groups but without a facilitator. All

interviews were conducted by me over refreshments at a café location and at a time that

best suited the participants. During these interviews I adhered to the adapted SHOWED

format (Hergenrather et al., 2009). I was initially concerned that using data gleaned from

two formats (focus groups and interviews) might negatively influence my research.

Compounding this was my concern about the number of interviews. Not only was this a

time-consuming activity but I also worried that, without group support, interview

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participants might be more reserved. My concerns were unfounded. Individual interviews

provided a positive adjunct to my focus group encounters.

Concluding My Methodology

As I have come to understand and appreciate, methodology and methods are more than

just ways to conceptualise and operationalise the gathering of participant data. For me,

they are about researchers exploring the best means of soliciting data from their

participants. This view led to my initial foray into hermeneutic phenomenology, the

consideration of other methods and then my final decision that qualitative description was

most suited to my research because it told my participants stories in the best way.

I also realised that methodology is about more than data gathering. For me, methodology

and method facilitated how I built my relationship with my participants. My ease in that

relationship not only generated deep and meaningful data but also provided the most

effective way to communicate with my participants. As with understandings of

knowledge, I have also come to appreciate methodology and method as dynamic and

multifaceted vectors of mutual communication that led to my participants and me learning

about each other in mutually beneficial and meaningful ways.

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Chapter 6 Findings

Introduction to Findings

This chapter includes three sections of findings: one for each participant group. My

findings emerged from the data that I had collected from my focus group and interview

sessions. Aligning with the principles of qualitative description, I was aware that I must

not over-interpret my data, but rather allow my participants’ descriptions to illuminate

their narratives of Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Consequently, my goal for this chapter was

to allow my participants’ experiences and narratives to become the dominant features or

‘stars’ (Chenail, 1995) of my writing.

To produce my findings, I engaged two qualitative methods: manual thematic analysis

and technology-assisted NVivo node creation. While both rely on the researcher’s

discernment of themes, the process of examining data in two distinct yet similar ways

proved beneficial. To begin my manual thematic analysis process, I read and reread

participant transcripts. In doing so, themes emerged from that data which I used as a base

to draft this chapter.

Complementing that, I ran my transcripts through NVivo. Rather than use the themes that

I had previously established, I decided to take a new approach. Among NVivo’s many

capabilities, I discovered ‘word frequency’. In using that function I realised that some

words stood out through repetition, such as: believe/belief, Māori, outdoor, multicultural,

nature, and recycle. In using NVivo, I reconsidered the efficacy of my manual thematic

analysis process. I questioned which one represented my participants’ experiences more

accurately and came to realise that NVivo held an advantage over manual thematic

analysis. I concluded that because NVivo’s benefit lay in its capacity to recognise themes

within text, rather than my interpretation through thematic analysis of what participants

noted, that NVivo should be the preferred method for my work. Consequently, this

chapter presents my findings as identified through NVivo, but underpinned in part by my

manual thematic work. Combined, NVivo noding and manual thematic analysis

effectively and accurately conveyed my participants’ experiences of Kiwi identity and

kiwiana, reflecting my research aim for participant data to be the star of my thesis

(Sandelowski, 2000). Additionally, NVivo provided an opportunity for me to open up my

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participants’ narratives by considering how they generated myths of being and becoming.

In doing so, I anticipated that my NVivo-generated insights might inform new myths of

Kiwi identity and kiwiana as discerned by my participants.

Within the processes outlined above, I was faced with what Denzin and Lincoln (1994)

termed a “crisis of representation” (p. 9). My crisis reflected my considerations of how I

might best integrate my ontological and epistemological positions, my chosen theories

(in my conceptual framework) while simultaneously recognising that my data was the

star of this findings chapter. As researcher, I take seriously the importance of my

participants’ data. Consequently, in my write-up of my findings, I experienced what

Coffey and Atkinson (1996) termed going “beyond” (p. 153) the data. For me, going

beyond meant that I had considered what my participants had told me thoroughly enough,

through reading and rereading, listening and relistening, and thematic analysis. In these

ways, I came to know my participants’ narratives and began to feel saturated with their

knowledge and experiences of Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Those feelings provided the

confidence necessary to write up these findings. However, my introspective state did not

diminish the data’s importance or potency. Rather, my introspection fostered my deeper

awareness, understanding and appreciation of what my participants had told me. In turn,

through awareness, understanding and appreciation, this introspection generated my

understanding and allowed me to write my findings chapter.

Consequently, I structure my findings chapter in a manner that emphasises the point that

my participants’ voices convey the best information. In that way, my findings celebrate

my participants’ aspiration in coming to Aotearoa New Zealand. Yet, in practical terms,

my voice as researcher is evident in my findings. It offers an interpretive overlay and

summation. Consequently, this chapter is best considered as a multi-voiced account of

what my participants and I thought and experienced within our co-constructed exploration

of Kiwi identity and kiwiana.

Chinese Findings

Chinese Findings: Kiwiana

My Chinese participants identified Christmas, the Waitangi Treaty Grounds, nature,

coffee, and wine as key items of kiwiana. For them, kiwiana also incorporated feelings

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and experiences. Those feelings and experiences helped them come to know and

understand being Kiwi through the rituals associated with the material items that they had

identified.

Christmas

For these participants Christmas was a standout Kiwi event. As Frank observed:

In China, Christmas is not a very important festival but in the Western country, like New

Zealand, it’s quite important.

Additionally, because Christmas occurred in the New Zealand summer, it contrasted the

wintertime Chinese experience. Christmas was also seen as a social occasion in

New Zealand, providing new opportunities to meet people, as Winnie noted:

Although we live together in China we do not talk to or contact as much as here, even

at Christmas.

Hunter proposed that:

[New Zealand] is like a kind of international country; [people] come from anywhere,

any country, so [it’s] like this kind of a festival. People can come together and talk to

each other to share different cultures even at Christmas time.

Additionally, Frank noted:

I found the neighbourhood was quite friendly, especially when it’s a kind of festival

time, like Christmas.

Again, that contrasted Christmas in China for Frank:

Usually we celebrate things with our family, here it’s opened up.

Recognising that, Winnie proffered:

In New Zealand, you normally come with your neighbours. Christmas is about

community of people coming together.

These participants noticed the commercial rather than religious nature of a New Zealand

Christmas, as Alice related:

In China, we know there’s a festival, but we do not spend much more time or money on

it but when we came here we started to prepare gifts for our family and friends.

Consequently, Christmas was an occasion for socialisation, a time to meet people and

engage with a wider community. While New Zealand’s Christmas contrasted their

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Chinese experiences of it, Christmas was a way in which Chinese participants came to

know and understand more about being Kiwi.

The Waitangi Treaty Grounds

The Waitangi Treaty Grounds were an important kiwiana symbol. For Hunter, they

represented the place where the Crown and tangata whenua came together, agreed and

formed a nation:

The Waitangi Treaty Grounds is New Zealand. We are here as [a] colonised country

that various parties came to agreement that they form a nation together. I think that’s

where all the spiritual aspects actually become to adapt into each other. I think that’s

a fundamental thing with New Zealand.

Kitty added:

Everything that I can think about this country is literally based on that moment; when

they signed, they wanted to work together.

Frank suggested that the Treaty Grounds symbolised difference. He expressed that

through a religious lens:

When I look at the Māori history there is more a multi-God

religion, probably like ancient Greece or something like

Egypt where they have a god pretty much for everything. It

can be kind of a conflict with the European religion, like

the Christian, because they only worship one god.

Winnie considered that the Treaty Grounds

represented a milestone in the nation’s history, one

that impacted the present:

Without that moment [the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi] I don’t think the country

can be as it is today.

Danni added:

I heard the Treaty is a living document. When I visited [the Treaty Grounds] I felt that

it was a special place. I don’t just mean that the Treaty was signed here but that this

place is special now and for the future too.

In those ways, my Chinese participants not only recognised the bond created by the

Treaty, but also came to recognise the ongoing significance of the document itself and its

place of signing. In that sense, Chinese participants recognised a national turangawaewae

and their place in it.

Figure 39: Treaty Grounds

Waitangi.

135 | P a g e

Nature

Natural environments and animals were important kiwiana. Hunter recalled his time in

the Bay of Islands:

That was a really terrific moment. We had a trip up to the Bay of

Islands where obviously we took a tour of the Kiwi Explorer or

something like that; on a boat where you see lots of dolphins

swimming there freely.

Kitty commented that most Kiwis cared for animals and

nature:

I think that New Zealand has a great spirit about protecting

animals and nature probably. Lots of news around people trying to do their best to save

whales when maybe they’re stuck on the shore.

Kitty continued:

I make the joke with my friends that sometimes I think that animal’s rights are probably

even better than the human rights here; somehow! You get into like really, really big

trouble if you treat animals wrong.

In recognising that, participants gained a wider insight into being Kiwi inasmuch as being

Kiwi held connections with nature and animals. As Hunter added:

How amazing! Look at the water. Look at the animals! I was

literally thinking that’s what New Zealand has been about; just

protecting their own environment. Comparatively another shameful

point of view to comment on is my own country because I came from

a country where it is heavily polluted.

This prompted a brief discussion about intangible kiwiana.

Hunter contributed:

I think to me that it’s like more of a spiritual thing. That’s how I understood kiwiana. It

is not something you can easily touch; you can always feel it. You see these people doing

great stuff, but somehow that impacts on your overall feeling. You feel, oh yes that’s the

right thing to do, and that makes you think that New Zealanders are great because they

are doing good things for not themselves but also for nature and for the earth.

Frank added a spiritual dimension:

To me it is a kind of very spiritual thing; the impact on your overall thinking, your value,

your point of view.

Intangibility was a potent force for Hunter:

Figure 40: Nature in

New Zealand.

Figure 41: Bay of

Islands dolphins.

136 | P a g e

My blood feels like a pumping up and makes you feel like, ‘Oh yes’. That’s something

that feels really, really great. I think it encourages you to basically say – or not just

talking about it – but encourages you to do something good rather than evil. That’s how

I look at it [kiwiana].

Kitty proposed that, for her, kiwiana promoted different feelings than she had experienced

in China. In that way, Kitty bridged tangibility and intangibility. As she recounted:

If you came from a completely different kind of environment, like China, to New Zealand

the natural environment here, like Hunter said, stands out. It’s just so different.

Clearly, nature was an important kiwiana theme for my Chinese participants. Over time,

this group came to enjoy its beauty. For some, that beauty contrasted with China.

Coffee and Wine

Coffee, particularly the flat white, was seminal kiwiana. As Winnie related:

For me the flat white you can only find it in New Zealand. Also, a lot of countries they

sell flat white now, but the people think it’s one type of coffee represent of New Zealand.

For Alice the flat white symbolised being Kiwi:

I think flat white is your top drink. That’s why I choose this the first one to be kiwiana,

because it really can represent the drinking culture.

Frank believed that takeaway flat whites were part of Kiwi

culture:

People don’t want to spend time in the café; they want to

takeaway. It’s kind of culture with New Zealand people to

takeaway cup.

The Kiwi flat white was compared to China’s coffee culture.

Of special note, within this comparison, was coffee art.

Knowing about the flat white and learning latte art styles

became a badge of pride for Winnie. She recounted:

[In] China a lot of coffee shops they don’t really focus on the latte art. But in this

country, if the latte art is good you have a good moment to drink coffee. That’s why I

started learning latte art.

For Winnie, latte art New Zealand’s coffee culture represented a way of becoming Kiwi:

I think I prefer a drink like cappuccino […] But when I come here ‘When you’re in

Rome, do as Romans do’. That’s why I changed my taste of coffee.

Figure 42: Kiwi flat white.

137 | P a g e

Consequently, knowing about coffee, particularly the flat white, helped these participants

understand parts of Kiwi culture that in turn promoted feelings of belonging. In these

ways, coffee helped to build participants’ culinary, social and cultural capitals.

Wine was another important kiwiana symbol. All participants

had tasted wine from New Zealand. While cognisant of Old

World wines, this group was aware that New Zealand was a

New World wine country. As Frank explained:

France is really known for wine and they have fantastic wine.

However, so too does New Zealand. And Kiwi wine is usually much

cheaper [than French wine].

Participants found that Kiwi wine was a vector of

consumption facilitating feelings of belonging. In that way,

Chinese participants learnt about Kiwi culture. Wine was a way to fit in, to be Kiwi. As

Danni commented:

When you go to Countdown the price it can start from less than $10.00; maybe the

maximum depends on the high quality of the wine. So, that’s why it is kind of like all of

the whole country, no matter like how rich you are or where you are from, I think

everyone likes it. It’s kind of joining the culture to be part of; just like coffee.

Hunter agreed:

I start to try different types of them and finally I found okay which kind of type I want

[…] you start to learn the culture and to gradually accept it and then you’ll be the one

to like, maybe you can recommend it to your friends.

Through wine a distinct terroir was identified. Winnie proposed that Central Otago’s

pinot noirs were:

Stand-out wines.

She held a preference for Waiheke Island reds:

The cabernets of Waiheke are great wines too, but they are expensive.

In those ways, wine consumption and knowledge provided participants with their nascent

culinary and social capital. Those capital enhanced feelings of belonging and promoted

further explorations of wine.

Figure 43: Kiwi wine.

138 | P a g e

Exemplifying those themes, Winnie stored her empty wine bottles in varietal categories.

This activity not only created feelings of belonging for her, but also empowered her in

dining and other social situations.

Consequently, coffee and wine were items of distinction. Participants found that having

coffee and wine knowledge was socially empowering. Additionally, that knowledge

added a sense of geography via terroir. Both coffee and wine served as portals that

participants used to find out more about being Kiwi.

Chinese Findings: Kiwi Identity

The Chinese group and interview participants discussed Kiwi identity through themes of

geology and geography, democracy, law and order, retirement and Tip Top ice cream.

Participants continued to make comparisons with China. Those comparisons reflected

their process of transition to becoming Kiwi. Within those transitions, it became obvious

to me why these participants engaged in comparison. By comparing their experiences of

New Zealand with those in China, participants avoided making value judgements. Their

comparisons were based on familiarity and the influences from China that they observed

in New Zealand. The only exception to that was the participants’ preference for Chinese

forms of policing, and law and order. Another factor that was common to this group was

their tendency to respond collectively. Responses tended to build upon what others had

said. There were no dissenting voices. Consequently, these findings reflect collectivist

thinking and agreement.

Geology and Geography

While the findings in this sub-section might well reflect the commentary of any tourist to

New Zealand, they are nonetheless important to this research. These findings reveal,

through participant perceptions of geology and geography, how feelings of belonging

have been created by the geologic and geographic differences between China and

Aotearoa New Zealand. That position is doubly important because it reinforces the

potency of ‘what any tourist might say’.

139 | P a g e

Seeing a rainbow while driving to Rotorua, prompted Danni to

exclaim:

Kiwis are lucky, the air is clean and yesterday I saw a rainbow.

That contrasted with China. Frank added that there was:

Too much pollution in China, bad. You never see rainbows.

Frank’s comment met with group agreement. New Zealand’s

comparative lack of pollution steered the group into further

discussion. Participants found that New Zealand’s geographic isolation and geothermal

activity were fascinating. Winnie noted:

New Zealand is far away from everywhere else. That might be why the air is so clean

and there are rainbows. I like that very much.

Geography connoted geothermal activity. Danni commented that:

I love Rotorua, but it smells there.

All Chinese participants had been to Rotorua. The geothermal

activity of fuming sulphur, boiling mud pools and geysers

fascinated the group. Of interest was how geothermal activity

enabled them to:

See inside the earth.

Kitty viewed that as special:

A gift of the earth or something like that.

As Danni added:

Yes, it really smells [Rotorua], but look you can see under the ground, it’s the reality

of the earth here.

However, the group did not perceive the geothermal activity to be dangerous or a sign of

the earth or people’s fragility. Rather, it was the smell, the colours and the changing views

that enhanced their understanding that some of Aotearoa New Zealand’s landscapes were

in formation.

Figure 44: Rainbow.

Figure 45: Rotorua

thermal activity.

140 | P a g e

The chance to see that happening, to “see inside the earth”

was a fascination. Like their own changing status

between tourists, migrant and citizen, Rotorua’s

geothermal activity was a metaphor for change. In New

Zealand, particularly Rotorua, the group realised that

nature’s living earth was present and visible.

Encapsulating that, Frank remarked:

I like to see the land, [it] looks like life, breathing and smelly, hot and fuming.

Democracy, Law and Order

Two sub-themes reflected participant attitudes about democracy, law and order in New

Zealand: the freedom that the country’s government gave its citizens and the opportunities

to ‘be who you are’. All participants noted that the government consulted its people about

important issues. The country’s flag referendum exemplified, for this group, democracy

in action. Both Hunter and Kitty commented that it was interesting that the government

gave the choice of flag to the people and simply did not autocratically make the decision.

Frank believed that giving people choices like that was:

A total waste of money.

He asserted that the money would be better spent:

Upgrading some of the country’s roads.

Tertiary education was also an important Kiwi identity theme. Gaining qualifications and

the diversity of students who attended university were important considerations of

participants’ Kiwi identity. For Hunter, university also created a sense of belonging. As

he reflected:

The country I came from [is] probably not as diverse as New Zealand. I think that here

is a lot better. It’s more open. I overheard there can be occasions in New Zealand

history that probably didn’t quite work out but comparatively I think we are probably

the best country in the world where the diversity works so good.

Kitty commented on an image of a university graduation ceremony:

You see a lot of different faces and different-coloured skins in that crowd, that’s for

sure. That proves that this country is such an adaptable nation where everyone can find

a place here pretty much. So, people are not really judged by their ways, their gender

or everything. That’s what I admire about this country.

Figure 46: Silica, sulphur,

water.

141 | P a g e

The prestige of New Zealand’s universities provided added appeal.

As Kitty related:

I have learned that all [NZ universities] have been ranked in the top five

hundred universities in the world, which is amazing. Talking about the

size of our nation and our population and even our land; we are a tiny,

tiny country in the world, but we manage to have all those – I think eight

universities – across the whole country ranked in the five hundred.

During the last few years, they have been ranked even higher, so it’s

getting really close to the top.

Themes of diversity and tertiary education prompted Winnie to show an image of the Big

Gay Out30. The Big Gay Out’s emphasis on gender and sexuality made for an

uncomfortable conversation among participants. Typifying that was the following

amalgam of participant conversation:

Ah, them - what you say, like for lesbians and gays, actually … It was on Ponsonby.

Um, so, um, other countries probably have the same event as well; and, ah, I mean, New

Zealand … it’s quite free for those people … Um, um, I mean, it’s um.

Additionally, participants were surprised that the Big Gay Out was supported by

government departments and tertiary institutions. As Danni observed:

A lot of banks [and] public organisations support those kinds of

things. You never see a university or charity support [this] kind of

[gay] event [in China], um, so it’s, um, it’s quite impressive to me.

Consequently, events like the Big Gay Out identified a

liberalism within Kiwi identity that may not have been as

comfortable for participants as it was for the Big Gay Out’s

attendees. Gay freedom of expression challenged these

participants.

Adding to that discomfort was an image of a policeman dressed

as a kiwi bird at the Big Gay Out. However, the image

captivated the group. Winnie asked:

Is that really a policeman?

Kitty commented:

30 A celebration of sexual and gender diversity.

Figure 47:

Graduation.

Figure 48: Hero Parade,

Big Gay Out.

142 | P a g e

In China you never see a police officer, well, like entertain people in public. I mean,

kiwi bird is the national bird for New Zealand.

Frank added that the incongruity for him lay not only with the

policeman’s supposed casual attitude in dressing as a kiwi bird,

but also that in doing so, the policeman was making fun of a

national icon. Reassured that it was a police officer, the group

began a discussion that concentrated their opinions of policing

in New Zealand. This conversation was the only time that

Chinese participants actively voiced an opinion on a topic that

they believed was better “in China”. Hunter revealed his

perceptions of New Zealand’s laissez-faire policing:

I’m not sure if the population of policeman are not enough here … because in China, if

you call a police for robbery, or, ah, burglary, they will come, but here they will ask

you to stay [away] from the dangerous. Even [if] the thief is in your house, you just

leave it [and go] away. You can’t [do] anything. You just [need to] keep you safe. And

probably they [the police] will not, um, come to the scene straight away; they just come

probably the day, one day after, or something like that.

Others agreed. Danni related that when her handbag was stolen on Queen Street:

Nothing happened [with the Police]. I was disappointed and now sometimes I do not

feel safe.

Feeling unsafe was common to the group, especially its female members. As Winnie

related:

Yes, I feel unsafe sometimes at night when we go out.

Adding to that Alice suggested that:

Queen Street can be scary.

While not relating any similar stories, about feelings of insecurity, the male participants

nonetheless agreed. Exemplifying that Frank remarked:

I know what you mean, sometimes it’s scary, but nothing has happened to me.

Themes of democracy, law and order and the freedom inherent to the Big Gay Out were

areas of concern for these participants. Additionally, police practice in New Zealand was

not what they expected, based on their Chinese experiences of policing. Similarly, the

Big Gay Out challenged behavioural norms for the group. However, issues of policing

and the Big Gay Out revealed that while participants were uncomfortable or believed

Figure 49: Policing,

Big Gay Out.

143 | P a g e

police service ineffective, these participants felt comfortable enough to express those

opinions. While my participants had difficulty with those topics, they also recognised that

police practice and events like the Big Gay Out were important reflectors of Kiwi identity

for many people.

Retirement

Frank was impressed that retirement in New Zealand rewarded a lifetime of hard work.

He noted that:

Retirement villages have many entertainment facilities. So, I feel their [residents’]

retired life is quite colourful.

However, participants realised that retirement required planning. As Hunter reflected:

It reminded me of the feeling of real life but you need to work hard first.

Participants were keen to relate their retirement knowledge from China. There, retirement

villages were a comparatively new concept. The group agreed with Kitty:

We like to look after our parents ourselves.

Danni added that, in New Zealand, her parents:

Lived in her family home and they all ate together.

Those living arrangements were normal for this group, although Hunter noted that

because of smaller families and the demands of work, family care in China was changing.

In China, parental care was moving from family responsibility to managed retirement

village concepts. While recognising differences in traditional retirement care, participants

acknowledged one thing in common between China and New Zealand: both cared about

their older citizens. Consequently, the group’s exploration of retirement, while

contrasting their Chinese experiences of it, provided new possibilities for them when

reflected on how Kiwis perceived retirement and, how, through “hard work”, they might

achieve a successful retirement themselves.

Tip Top Ice Cream

Ice cream was perceived as a refreshing summertime treat and as a metaphor for Kiwi

identity. All participants attributed the Tip Top ice cream brand as Kiwi. Participants

described Tip Top ice cream as “safe”, and “inexpensive and trustworthy”. Kitty

144 | P a g e

explained how, before coming to New Zealand, she was advised by

friends to try Tip Top ice cream, because:

It’s the most Kiwi thing to do.

While most participants had tried other ice creams, Tip Top

remained their favourite. Capturing that, Winnie remarked:

Tip Top is a big brand. It’s Kiwi. All Kiwis eat it and so do I. Tip Top is

being Kiwi.

Consequently, through their discussion on Tip Top ice cream, these

participants revealed three characteristics of being Kiwi: safety, economic prudence and

trustworthiness. Thus, a brief discussion about ice cream yielded valuable insights into

the characteristics of Kiwi identity.

Latin American Findings

Latin American Findings: Kiwiana

My Latin American participants identified five kiwiana themes: Māori, the black New

Zealand passport cover, the black flag, the silver fern, and mānuka honey. Needing to talk

about being Kiwi and kiwiana, they expressed their belief that New Zealand was a special

place. Summing that up Ana suggested:

While Pākehā dominate in New Zealand, what’s special in this country [and identified]

often comes from Māori.

The themes this group identified have certain aspects in common. They reflect the

connection between Māori, the land, and nature. It became obvious that group members

experienced significant personal identity change as they negotiated their own migration

processes. Those changes, as Christian revealed, mirrored the ways in which they

perceived:

The materiality symbolising New Zealand and being Kiwi,

compared to their own changing immigration status. These findings not only incorporated

Kiwi identity and kiwiana, but also how individual perceptions of identity and materiality

had changed over time.

Figure 50: Tip Top

ice cream.

145 | P a g e

Exemplifying identity change for Latinx participants was their transition from being a

visitor to New Zealand to an aspirant migrant and then to becoming a New Zealand

resident. Best encapsulating these transitions and their link to kiwiana was Luis. He

recounted:

I remember the first time I came to New Zealand as a tourist back in 2003. I returned

back home and guess what? I had a black cap with a silver fern at the front; not a blue

cap with the Southern Cross or the British logo. No, it was a black cap with a silver

fern. I also had a tee-shirt that was again black with a silver fern. So, as a tourist you

go back with souvenirs that represent the country that you just visited and contains the

silver fern and not the New Zealand flag.

Luis’s observations not only recognised how the relevance of materiality had changed

over time, but also how migrants perceived Kiwi identity and kiwiana through materiality.

For some of my participants, changing materiality was confusing. As Erica shared:

I’m confused with the flag. Is it the black flag and fern, the blue and red flag with the

stars? And, which blue and red flag with the stars is Australian and which is Kiwi. Here

[in New Zealand] the black flag with the silver fern is everywhere, especially at sports

events. I’m confused.

While the flags caused some confusion, they also created entry points in getting to know

Kiwis. Juarez recounted a time when he was back in Peru and saw the silver fern on a

flag:

Oh, look the New Zealand team, let’s go and have a chat with them. And guess what?

They had that flag, not the New Zealand flag. They did have a New Zealand flag sitting

on the side but the one they were waving was this one; the black one with the silver fern

and New Zealand. We are talking about Kiwis in a worldwide surfing competition in

Peru and they were representing themselves with that flag.

As tourists and aspirant migrants, my Latinx participants purchased Kiwi souvenirs;

however, as they became citizens, their purchasing habits changed. As Pepa observed:

Now that I am a New Zealand citizen and I live among this society […] I don’t wear

these things. Now I didn’t really think much of it. But I am puzzled that souvenir shops

here all sell Black shirts, caps, sweaters, mugs, with the silver fern on, and not so much

the Southern Cross and the stars.

146 | P a g e

Māori: Pou Whenua and Tā Moko

My Latinx participants were unanimous: New Zealand’s Māori

culture and worldview were vital considerations aiding their

understandings of kiwiana. For them, Māori culture was, as Ana put

it:

As splendid as that of ancient Italy, Greece, Aztec and Mayan worlds.

Latinx participants likened Māori sculptural art to the:

Naked sculptures of Greece.

Additional comparisons included:

In a book like the Kamasutra.

Within Māori art and culture, two signifiers dominated the Latinx focus group and

interview data: tattoo and carving. Exemplifying that combination was an image taken by

Pepa of a pou whenua in the Hamilton Public Gardens.

Her image created group debate. Pepa commented:

There’s a man who grabs his penis.

And that there:

Were a lot of male figures with erections. This is something I find

very interesting, which is that they are extremely sexual: sexuality

seems to be [a] symbol of power.

Adding to that power was the pou whenua’s carved tattoo.

Pepa viewed the combination of nakedness, sexuality and

tattoo as potent. Others in her group agreed, however they

were not as forthright in their descriptions. Rather than explicitly commenting about

sexuality, others complemented Pepa’s observations saying the pou whenua were:

Powerful and potent; fierce and aggressive.

Pepa’s photo of a pou whenua also generated a conversation that exposed worldview

differences amongst the Latinx participants. She asked:

What if the pou whenua [and her descriptions of it] were Pākehā art: would they be

considered obscene?

Figure 51: Moko.

Figure 52: Pou whenua.

147 | P a g e

Half of the group thought yes, that the pou whenua would be considered obscene. The

others suggested that, because Māori culture was like the classical cultures of Europe and

the Americas, Māori art was not obscene. They also suggested that, because Māori were

tangata whenua and used indigenous materials, particularly paua and timber, in their art,

the totems could not be considered obscene.

Within those identifications, some participants noted that there is

a lot of pride in New Zealand people. For Luis, that pride was

reflected in the way in which he believed that Kiwis treasured their

material and identity uniqueness:

I see people who like to have their symbols, or their uniqueness

protected.

Julietta suggested that while Luis may be right, she believed that

Pākehā culture did not have “many symbols of their own”. As a

result, the Pākehā appropriation of Māori materiality “was a

convenience”.

As Christian recounted:

Whenever a New Zealander wants to get hold of a symbol, it’s going to be a Māori

symbol.

Jurez thought a lot of Pākehā were

Going against [Māori] culture.

For Ana, that situation highlighted the void between Māori and Pākehā cultures:

Culture is important and Pākehā doesn’t have one. They came from all these different

places. Kiwis are very independent as such and they like this feeling of independency

but there’s lots of moments of like the culture comes along and then they [Pākehā] don’t

know what to do; then they use the Māori.

For Christian the cultural separation between Pākehā and Māori reflected residual issues

of colonisation:

Māoris [sic] are a lot proud [sic] of New Zealand. Māoris [sic] are a lot more wanting

New Zealand to stand up for something particular; not being so Europeanised.

Others perceived unity between Māori and Pākehā, but all participants were aware of

political correctness. The group drew clear distinctions, within constructs of Māori and

Pākehā, that enabled them to negotiate te ao Māori and other ways of being Kiwi. Their

Figure 53: Pou

whenua in

Hamilton.

148 | P a g e

articulation of that distinction rested on time: because Māori have inhabited Aotearoa

New Zealand the longest, Latinx participants agreed that:

Māori culture has a longer history and therefore holds a special place in the country’s

future.

Encapsulating that Jurez remarked:

New Zealanders are very proud of their environment and this is all of them – Pākehā

and Māori.

Paint it Black: Passports, Flag and Ferns

An item that was commented upon and questioned frequently was the silver fern. Latinx

participants were intrigued that the New Zealand passport has a black cover embossed

with a silver fern. As Christian suggested:

I know no other country that has a black passport. I think, and I might

be wrong, but I think New Zealand is the only country in the world with

a black passport and a silver fern on top of it. Again, I think it’s a

symbol of kiwiana that is now representative of the most important

document of identification for this country.

Similarly, my Latinx participants were confused that the nation’s

flag did not have a silver fern, yet the country’s passport did. As

Luis commented:

The silver fern rather than the New Zealand flag, it’s a little bit

abnormal if you compare it to the rest of the nations that will always

have their flags as a representation of their identity. This country doesn’t: it uses a

silver fern.

Additionally, they observed that the silver fern also represented

New Zealand beyond the static symbolism on the travel

document:

So, you find that political authorities, diplomatic authorities will have

it as a pin on their suits when they are attending important ceremonies.

In that way, the silver fern is interchangeable with the New Zealand

flag. I feel the silver fern encompasses all New Zealanders.

For this group, the colour black was associated with pirates, free

thinkers and those outside the mainstream. While linking the

colour black to a “dark and evil colour” within the binary of “white symbolising purity”,

Figure 54: Kiwi

passport.

Figure 55: Unfurling

silver fern.

149 | P a g e

those concerns were set aside when they considered the

colour association with New Zealand. As Erica contributed:

The black flag suits Kiwis and New Zealand. New Zealand’s a

long way from anywhere else [geographically] and things are

different. I see why the flag is black and why we end up discussing

pirates. The Kiwi black flag with the silver fern is a strong point

of identity difference.

Part of that difference was connected to sport, and in particular, the All Blacks. The

national team was familiar to all Latinx participants. The silver fern on a black flag and

the All Blacks’ use of those items were, according to Pepa:

Really big symbols for the country and have a lot to do with kiwiana of New Zealand.

That point prompted a discussion about mānuka honey and nature.

Land of Honey and Nature

Latin American participants were enthusiastic about their perceptions of how Kiwis

considered nature and the environment. The proximity to the natural environment was a

refreshing change for many in this group. Luis proposed:

I think that New Zealanders are proud of their environment – and that is all of them,

Pākehā and Māori. That is something I quite like about New Zealand.

Jurez added that:

Kiwis are connected to nature, it helps you live better. New Zealand is a country that is

organic and that cares about products that are good for you.

Exemplifying that, Pepa commented:

Mānuka honey is something that is very special and quite expensive.

That comment prompted Ana’s discussion about

New Zealand’s reputation as:

An organically focussed country [that] has a lot to do

with the environment and with caring about something

that helps you live better, especially if it’s connected to

nature; you see [it is] healthy.

Those perceptions of New Zealand reflected a

wider conversation acknowledging that, as Erica claimed:

Figure 56: The silver fern

flag.

Figure 57: Mānuka honey.

150 | P a g e

In living in New Zealand, you are never far from nature.

As Jurez remarked:

Mānuka honey is something very representative of New Zealand to the eyes of tourists

and foreigners.

Participant observations contrasted the city living many had experienced in their countries

of origin. Back in Brazil, Ana observed that:

Going to the supermarket or greengrocer was as close as I got to nature. Here, I can

see beehives when I’m driving home from work. Nature is so close here.

Those factors combined to generate a shared awareness that products like mānuka honey

not only reflected nature but also, with that connection, were perceived as beneficial to

health. As Christian remarked:

I think you see healthy, I think you see New Zealand as a country that is organic and

that cares about products that are good for you.

Latin American Findings: Kiwi Identity

Cognisant that attitude is a key theme in Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) social identity theory,

in that commonly shared attitudes foster group belonging, this section presents the six

attitudinal themes that Latinx participants discerned to constitute Kiwi identity. In linking

materiality to identity, these participants extended their thoughts on kiwiana by

suggesting that Kiwi identity was reflected in Kiwi attitudes. Those attitudes and ways of

being included: nature, going barefoot and embracing a casual dress sense, coffee

(particularly the flat white), and the barbeque. Those domains also represented potential

myths of being and becoming that this group encountered and negotiated as they became

more familiar with their own ‘becoming Kiwi’.

Going Barefoot and Dressing in Casual Ways

Luis observed:

You know, I don’t think Kiwis even understand what others see.

That simple observation sparked a passionate conversation among all Latinx participants.

In their early exposure to Kiwi culture, they were shocked at the casual ways in which

Kiwis dressed and that many Kiwis went barefoot.

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While participant attitudes on these topics changed over time,

they were summarised by Christian’s comment that inferred that

Kiwis do things in mediocre ways:

To us ‘she’ll be right’ translates to mediocracy because it’s not well

done. It’s just enough to pass.

That casualness was also reflected in Latinx perceptions of Kiwi

dress sense. The apparently substandard Kiwi dress sense deeply

concerned this group. Christian, who dealt with the public as part

of his banking job, commented:

I have been in the bank and Joe Bloggs comes with very dirty shorts, tee-shirt with a

big massive hole that shows half his shoulder, barefoot and sits in front of me and when

I give him a form to sign he puts his hand and when he takes it out there is a big brown

smudge on the document, because he is a builder and he just came straight to the bank

on his lunch break. When I was new in New Zealand or just got my job in the bank to

me that used to be very shocking.

The cultural shock of New Zealanders’ dress sense contrasted with

his home country experiences:

I can recall my dad going to the bank back home and when he said, “I

have to go to the bank,” he will iron a shirt, put trousers, leather shoes

polished and go to the bank because otherwise he wouldn’t be treated

with the same respect as if he was to go with shorts and tee shirt. But here

I experience the complete opposite.

As Erica noted:

[Kiwis] have no dress protocols.

However, as time passed, participant attitudes also changed. Jurez noted:

Now, New Zealand is home to me and I have adopted a lot of the culture, I embrace

certain things and I have chilled myself. I don’t look at it anymore, but it is very

noticeable for people that come from overseas. It’s a very strong Kiwi culture aspect.

Cultural adaptation caused others in the group to reflect on dress codes back in their

countries of origin. Retrospectively, many found their countries dress codes exacting. Ana

explained:

Back home it’s extreme; it was such a pain for me. The women had to dress for

everything. I was really happy when I came to New Zealand and it was all so much more

relaxed in general. But we get again to the extreme; I think somewhere in between is

Figure 58: Barefoot

shopper.

Figure 59: Casual

dress sense.

152 | P a g e

better. Because I have gone to a wedding and you see this person coming with a sweaty

jumper and it’s like disrespecting.

Luis concurred:

Even going to a wedding, it’s informal dress. For me that shows

disrespect, but that’s what [Kiwis] do.

While recognising casual dress as a cultural difference and

something uniquely Kiwi, Pepa concluded, to group

agreement, that dress awareness needed to reflect the

occasion:

Like Hello! A little bit of respect is good. I am happy if you are a

builder and you come in your lunch break; that I accept – it’s your lunch break and why

not. But if you go to a wedding just make a little bit of effort in respect to the people. So,

I think New Zealand is far too relaxed.

Two other factors influenced impressions of Kiwi dress sense: footwear and going

barefoot. As Ana remarked:

People here wear jandals to go everywhere. It doesn’t matter if it’s snowing, or they go

barefoot in the street.

While jandals were seen as common, going barefoot shocked all Latinx participants.

Going barefoot contrasted their experiences of home. As Christian remarked:

Only homeless people or drunks in the parks are without shoes and it’s because they

fall asleep while drunk and they [other drunks] steal their shoes; that’s the only reason

why drunks don’t have shoes.

Pepa expressed her amazement at barefoot office workers by recalling that:

I see someone in an office walking with no shoes is really weird for us; it’s very strange

to see.

However, these participants had become accustomed to seeing barefoot schoolchildren.

Comments reflecting that included:

So for us that is like, Wow! Kids come to see us and forget the shoes all the time. It’s

like such a Kiwi thing. I think Kiwi and just Kiwi. Someone said the other day, Oh that’s

because of the climate. No it’s not because of the climate. I have grown up in front of

the beach and we go to the street with shoes on. Maybe from the beach to the house you

have got your jandals in your hand that day because you’ve got sun and you’re like,

Wow I’m being brave. You don’t go to the street without shoes.

Figure 60: Barefoot

and casual dress.

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Pepa summed up the Latinx group’s perception of barefoot New Zealanders when she

said:

I think it’s a Kiwi thing. I think they’re chilled and it’s fine. They are tough, but I just

can’t do it myself. Maybe Kiwis are in touch with the environment. I don’t know; it’s a

Kiwi thing.

Latinx participants found another Kiwi habit intriguing: removing shoes when entering a

home. As Ana remarked:

I have never seen this before in my life. I have travelled quite a lot and I relate this to

Kiwi culture. You’re invited to a house and no one asks; they just take off their shoes.

It‘s something like cultural; they do it only here.

Despite their initial amazement, Latinx participants began to embrace the practice.

Reflecting their adaptation to the local environment Jurez added:

I started thinking about [taking shoes off when entering someone’s home] and yeah this

is really clean; it‘s a nice thing to do. I think that it says that Kiwis are respectful; they

respect your place. It’s a matter of education and respect and yeah, I won’t come in

with my dirty shoes into your precious house. I think it is something like that; so, respect

would be the word.

Half of the Latinx participants suggested that they would

adopt the practice if they went back to their countries of

birth. Reflecting that, Jurez noted:

Yes definitely, when I go back to Argentina I will take my shoes

off and people will look at me like, what are you doing? Why

would I take my shoes off ?

Luis was more pragmatic:

I think it‘s a matter of what I want; it‘s my house so if you respect me, take your shoes

off. I want to keep my house clean and nice. I don’t want to bring dirt from outside to

my house. I think I will have to explain why I’m doing this.

Ana noted how taking your shoes off might reveal more about a person and the culture

they come from. She suggested that:

Kiwis are more relaxed about other people’s opinions in that way really; maybe not in

some others. You know, it‘s alright, you’re my friend, why would I worry if you take

your shoes off and then you have a hole in your sock? Argentinians, we’re very uptight

in that sense. Kiwis are not. Perhaps we can learn this.

Figure 61: Gumboots and

shoes at the door.

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Social Mixing, Coffee and Barbeques

My Latinx participants enjoyed socialising with Kiwis. Socialisation, eating, enjoying

music and barbeques, provided opportunities for them to get to know Kiwi culture. What

these participants found memorable was the diversity, especially getting to know a range

of people of differing ages. Kiwi sociability was associated with an egalitarianism that is

less present in their homelands, and which represented opportunities to mix with a wider

age range of people. As Luis remarked while commenting on a photo taken at Piha beach:

So, again, surrounded by amazing nature, magnificent nature

with the sea, with the mountains, and then this kind of music

from around the world being enjoyed by mixed races, mixed

ages. Again, not necessarily rich or poor or low-class people,

it was for every single person that was there had the right, had

the space to enjoy the things from around the world. And you

can see that there’s lots of young people maybe growing,

sharing, living that moment without perhaps understanding

what is behind that moment, just listening to the music, chilling

out like New Zealand style.

‘Chilled out style’ continued when Christian looked at Luis’s image:

It represents the people – the Kiwis – that enjoy being in outdoors, being free, feeling

free; like mix of ages. These kinds of things you see often around the world but what I

really like about, is that, you get people from different ages.

Adding to that, Erica commented:

This mass of people like celebrating something together; and I went to this event and

there were like, there were kids from, like new-borns to people like elderly people;

people in wheelchairs, it was every single culture.

The coming together of people from different walks of life contrasted Luis’s experiences

in Argentina. He commented that:

It’s very sad for me to know that in Argentina [Buenos Aires], it separates too much;

like the poor people to the medium people, to the really rich people. We have very few

[…] people from other countries living there, […] we only deal with Argentinians,

which is the reality. I‘m not saying it’s not good; but I think it’s a great opportunity for

a human being to be surrounded by a mix of great cultures that are still surviving

nowadays, and they have lots of values and things to teach.

Those comments prompted a discussion about the values inherent in being Kiwi and how

socialisation impacted those values. Pepa’s comment encapsulated those connections:

Figure 62: Socialising at

Piha.

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I think everybody can be a Kiwi. Once you learn to be respectful, once you understand

your history and your family [there] are plenty of good things about being Kiwi. That

image [Piha] shows me that. It tells me being a Kiwi is about having an open mind and

that Kiwis have lots of important people in their life that make them become what they

are.

Extending this, in a veiled reference to the nation’s race relations, Ana remarked:

There is history here – some of it good, some of it bad; lots of baggage of cultural

difference. But in this image how would you know? This image is like representing a

history perhaps; and the new guys that are maybe taking different footpaths.

The country’s history prompted a discussion on its future. This group suggested that

because of the social mix, Kiwis had a positive future. Luis posited:

The tools are there to become a great people.

One particular aspect that this group highlighted while discussing socialisation was the

Kiwi obsession with coffee, particularly the flat white. The flat white was seen as

something unique to New Zealand, and specifically to Auckland’s cafés. They

enthusiastically commented how the flat white was, for them, an aide mémoire and ritual:

If you live in Auckland, for sure, you’re a fanatic of flat white, and it’s a symbol of, day

by day; like having a coffee with a friend, flat white will be present in your

conversations.

For these participants, the flat white represented more than a hot drink. It denoted

consistency and competition. The flat white also mirrored the personalities of the people

who sold it, creating a link between the coffee and being Kiwi. As Erica summed up, to

group agreement:

The uniqueness of a flat white is a bit like being Kiwi. You only get them here. And Kiwis

make great coffee, especially the flat white. I can sort of see Kiwi personality in flat

whites, they are the same, but they are different. Coffee culture is interesting, a way to

get to know Kiwis. Every coffee have a very different personalities. For me, flat white

culture or coffee culture in New Zealand, are very interesting. And I like that. I like that

there is no change. They are the same but different.

Attending Kiwi barbeques provided these participants with another avenue of

socialisation. For these participants the barbeque reflected Kiwi down time. Collective

comments included:

One thing I love about this country is that it‘s a country that has a very strong culture

that links towards family time, down time, enjoying nature. They are not so concerned

about career and making money to buy materialistic things as you find in American

156 | P a g e

culture or even Australia across the ditch. So, the barbecue is a moment where they get

together to eat some meat and again New Zealand is really good with meat and drink a

bit of beer and crack a few jokes and just socialise.

Latinx participants considered Kiwi barbeques to be a key part

of Kiwi identity and culture, and a social opportunity to

experience Kiwi foods and rituals. Ana noted:

I think the Kiwi barbecue is one of the most important aspects of

how Kiwis socialise.

The group found that part of their barbeque experience

included drinking. As Erica observed:

Socialisation with New Zealanders tends to revolve more around the pub or barbecues.

The barbecue is a time where everybody is chilled, eating sausages, chicken, pork and

all sorts of meats, salads and beer or bourbon or some sort of alcoholic beverage.

Barbeques also provided opportunities to socialise with a

diverse age range of people. This contrasted with many of their

‘back-home’ experiences. As Christian reflected:

Here in New Zealand I found that you go to a barbecue and you

could be having a beer with a 60-year-old person and you’re only

30 years old yourself. You’re both in your shorts and you’re both

with a beer in your hand and you’re talking. In the beginning that

was quite surprising and shocking. I didn’t know how to react to

such a situation where I had people that were three decades older

than me. So, I do think that the barbecue kind of unites all New

Zealanders into a common social point of interaction.

Nature

Another factor influencing participant perceptions of Kiwi identity was that being Kiwi

was associated with nature. Having a coffee, sitting on a park bench near the seashore in

Auckland city, watching seagulls, all promoted feelings of being close to nature for Luis.

Pepa continued:

I come from a big city. There you have to travel for a long while to reach the country.

Here, I can go to the beach, eat and watch the seagulls. Even they are interesting. For

me the beach is not far from my apartment, I can go there anytime. I often watch the

seagulls squabble over the food, and I am amazed with the big trees that are red at

Christmas, the clean water and beautiful sand. I seen some beaches with black sand

too, and lot of flax. We go there, have coffee, take some food. It’s all just around the

corner, it’s not like that back home.

Figure 63: Barbeque

food.

Figure 64: Kiwi

barbeque tools.

157 | P a g e

Pepa’s description prompted wider considerations of nature that included the silver fern.

Participants established clear links between Kiwi identity and nature inasmuch as the

country’s diverse population was synonymous with nature‘s own diversity. Participants,

particularly Ana and Erica, illustrated this connection using the silver fern as metaphor.

For them, it represented the natural beauty of Aotearoa New Zealand. As Ana remarked:

I never ever see a silver fern before in my life. 2009, the first time I came here, I saw

the first time this beautiful leaf […] it’s a natural icon of the country that is still very

natural. It looks from the dinosaur age.

Erica added:

The fact that you can turn it up and you can see the silver colour with the sun. This is a

very unique experience. And I will say to all the people in my country, that’s how New

Zealand love to express with you. And you are exploring, my Kiwi friends always say,

“Oh, did you know this plant is blah blah blah?” They try to explain to me and they are

excited. I love that connection with nature.

Complementing concepts of being Kiwi and nature

were wider environmental issues. Luis observed:

New Zealand’s still a very nice country with amazing nature

objectives.

Additionally, Ana recounted that:

People here are respectful with the air and the values of the

people of the land they love to be living in.

For Latinx participants, those positions framed a holistic picture about being Kiwi. As

Ana related:

People here are proud [of] their country and respect and feel proud.

Pepa added:

Kiwis understand how to be a functional society and also be sustainable and make their

people feel proud of being part of this.

Pacific Island Findings

Pacific Island Findings: Kiwiana

Pacific Island participants identified four important kiwiana themes reflecting aspiration

and change through innovation. Their kiwiana themes included education, food, housing

Figure 65: Defining a clean

environment.

158 | P a g e

and amenities. These participants promoted a sense of community within kiwiana

facilitated through infrastructure, particularly bus services and suburban living.

Education

Education, particularly tertiary education, was an aspiration for my Pasifika participants.

Education and university were key parts of kiwiana and, for them, going to university was

important. New Zealand’s universities were all viewed as prestigious. The University of

Auckland was perceived to be the most prestigious. Prestige was discerned within two

domains: institutional standing and distance from their Pacific Island birthplace.

Embodying that, Snow observed that:

The University of the Pacific is ok, Auckland University is just

better. The University of the Pacific is just on another island,

Fiji. My cousin goes there. I told his Mum, “Send him to

Auckland”. She didn’t listen.

Those comments reinforced the University of Auckland’s

status for these participants. Part of that status was the

university’s location. As Kisina remarked:

It’s because New Zealand’s probably the closest overseas big country to the Islands.

Continuing that theme, Aisake related:

Kiwiana, first one for me, Sina, would be University of Auckland. It’s important for me

to touch base with this one ‘cause this would be what I would associate with New

Zealand. New Zealand, in terms of education, it is one of the best.

For David, the University of Auckland’s mana went beyond the Pacific region. He

claimed:

Anyone coming to live in New Zealand will know the University of Auckland. They will

associate that university as New Zealand’s best.

Snow looked for reasons why Pasifika peoples might revere the University of Auckland.

She concluded:

It’s a migrant mentality. You know, always trying to move forward and supposedly

Auckland University’s the top one around the area and so we generally want to go there

first. We come to a land where there are a lot of opportunities. At the same time, we

don’t forget where we are from. You know, you almost kind of wear two hats and

perhaps you live in two homes. Your physical body is here in New Zealand, but your

Figure 66: The University

of Auckland.

159 | P a g e

heart is divided into two. Your identity is Tongan, you’re still Tongans, which means

you still remember families who are in Tonga.

While coming to New Zealand was important because participants could access quality

tertiary education, that benefit was not at the expense of others, especially those back

home. In that way, Pasifika participants engaged a dual realm of existence. Part of that

dual realm was founded in being in New Zealand. The other focused on the Islands and

helping people there. In those ways, these participants were mindful of and promoted a

collectivist sense of wellbeing, over and above individual benefit. Consequently, these

findings reveal that, for Pasifika participants, kiwiana included collectivist behaviours.

Food

Kiwi food reflected kiwiana. Food’s importance included themes of their Island homes,

adaption, belonging, and displays of economic capital, and so provided a potent insight

into kiwiana. Through food, participants negotiated change as they established their new

lives in New Zealand. Viliami recalled:

It’s like that advertisement on TV: the person coming into New Zealand and you’re

being interviewed. The Customs Officer pulls out some logos: Tip Top and Anchor. If

you can only identify one of them, then you must be a visitor. You’re not really a Kiwi.

Identify both and you’re Kiwi.

Aisake declared:

My kiwiana is New Zealand food: cheese, butter and meat pies. And, I think it’s

distinctly New Zealand and for food it’s nourishment. I love it, New Zealand butter.

Figure 67: A Kiwi pie.

Figure 68: Kiwi cheeses. Figure 69: New

Zealand butter.

160 | P a g e

Food was also a powerful reminder of home. Participants missed the rituals and routines

around the preparation and consumption of food, which they found lacking in New

Zealand. As Kisina recalled:

Food’s completely different here. I mean in the Islands, I know it’s not that healthy to

eat some Island foods, but I love the taste, in the Islands. It’s totally different over here.

Participants missed foodstuffs specific to their homeland, such as taro leaves, raw fish

and pork, as well as the rituals surrounding them like preparing the umu31. Innovation in

food preparation and ingredients reflected their adaptation to New Zealand’s seasonality

and limited ingredient range. Different food consumption, preparation and purchasing

concepts revealed how Pasifika participants adapted to their new life in New Zealand and

their identity as Kiwis.

Marinated raw fish was an Island dish especially important to all

participants. They were unanimous: “We eat it every day in the

Island but not here quite so much,” Tapu observed. Colder New

Zealand seawaters provided different fish:

I make my raw fish with Pink Snapper32. It’s almost the same as hoe, but

it’s pricey. At home it’s free.

In using pink snapper, Tapu was aware that her culinary adaptation revealed a greater

change than the fish alone suggested. He recalled:

I am just reinventing both. My raw fish is a bit of Kiwi and a bit of Island recipe; Island

recipe with Kiwi product.

For Tapu, her hybrid raw fish dish became a metaphor for his own reinvention as a Kiwi.

Food was also a way in which this group, and the Pacific Islanders they knew in New

Zealand, displayed economic capital. This was manifested through food consumption,

especially dining out. As Snow remarked:

We Islanders, we always like it big [quantity of food] and yeah, it’s always over budget.

We flash the cash.

31 An earth oven. 32 Snapper fillets sell for $35-$40 per kilo in New Zealand. Snapper is regarded as a premium fish.

Figure 70: Pink

snapper.

161 | P a g e

One favourite restaurant in Auckland city was SkyCity’s Fortuna Restaurant. As Snow

suggested:

I guess that is where all the PIs and Kiwis go to for a good feed, for special occasions

and stuff. It is affordable for the family.

While perceived as good value for money, eating out also displayed the economic benefits

of living in New Zealand, compared to life in the Islands. As Kisina remarked:

I think it’s a migrant thing and perhaps I talk from my Tongan-ness. It is an attribute –

move from a country where you hardly have cash to a country where you […] do

something that will show your wealth, you know.

Consequently, food acted as actant materiality, with some items reminding participants

of home, while other food items spoke of change and adaption. Food provided a bridge

of change for this group. Food’s commodification in New Zealand contrasted their

previous life in the Islands where they “went and caught fish, free”. Consequently, food

for this group represented an important marker within their understandings of kiwiana,

personal change, identity and economic status.

Housing and Amenities

While some participants were land owners back in the Islands, home ownership in New

Zealand was an aspiration. Factors influencing participant perceptions of owning real

estate included price, suburban infrastructure (particularly public transport), and how

those were realised in what Viliami termed:

Nice, neat and tidy suburbs with no rubbish.

He noticed that:

Almost all neighbourhoods are tidy, just some are more tidy than others.

That contrasted the Islands. As David suggested:

Often, we have rubbish everywhere and it looks awful. I identify that with New Zealand.

I like the way the streets are nice and neat and tidy; no rubbish.

Participants perceived that Aucklanders enjoyed a comparatively high standard of living

and that was an additional motivation to own property. Property ownership reflected

status and independence. As materiality, home ownership in New Zealand reflected Kiwi

identity and was therefore an important kiwiana aspiration. As Aisake related:

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As a migrant, it’s something I aspire to. I’ve got my own land in Tonga. I wish one day

I have my own here. So, it’s something we aspire to do. But I have to work hard towards

it. And when you get it you can do whatever you want with your own backyards. Besides,

most Kiwis own their house.

However, participants found Auckland’s property prices prohibitive. As Kisina observed:

It’s too much. Currently at the moment, I’m paying $550 per week for a three-bedroom

in South Auckland. If I were to compare this to Australia and that, I would say the Land

Down Under is a bit more affordable. The Kiwiland is a bit expensive.

Yet, despite high real estate prices, participants realised that demographic changes might

positively impact their purchasing power. Viliami surmised:

Here there are big houses. It’s much more cleaner. Commuting is fast. The land’s

expensive but there are some changes happening. While everyone’s moving to New

Zealand, many Kiwis are moving out of Auckland and moving away to the country. That

might impact house prices downward.

Adding to the attraction of home ownership was public

transport. For Snow, public transport was an important

aspect of kiwiana:

I use public transport a lot. To me that signifies kiwiana. I can

catch the public bus instead of my own vehicle and it costs less

for me to travel. And I like that you can get to wherever you

want around Auckland and also the suburbs.

David added:

I rely on public transport for everything. It’s how I get around Auckland, go to work.

It’s cheap33 and clean.

Tapu remarked:

I like the service. You can call up and find out the best bus to catch.

While the high cost of Auckland’s real estate was prohibitive, Pasifika participants

aspired to own property. For them it represented status and independence. Owning

property, for these participants, reflected being Kiwi. Additionally, infrastructure,

including public transport and rubbish collection, enhanced participant feelings of

wanting to belong here. Those feelings contrasted the lack of public transport and

33 In the New Zealand Herald, Orsman (2018) reported that public transport in Auckland represented the

third most expensive commute in the world, behind that of London and Dublin.

Figure 71: House for sale.

163 | P a g e

sometimes-messy environments that had been experienced in the Islands. Consequently,

property and infrastructure promoted participant narratives reflecting kiwiana.

Pacific Island Findings: Kiwi Identity

Pasifika participants identified Māori, the New Zealand flag, experiences of

discrimination and stereotyping and the All Blacks as important items and themes

reflecting Kiwi identity. In discussing those topics, participants were clear about the

reasons why they wanted to come to New Zealand. As Sina commented, to group

approval, “We come to New Zealand for a better life”. A better life was not gained at the

expense of their birthplace nor was it problem-free (see the section on “Discrimination

and Stereotype”, below). However, as Kisina commented:

I feel like I’m getting the best of both worlds.

Pasifika participants maintained strong ties to their Island and families back home in the

islands.

Māori

For Pacific Island participants, being Māori, te ao Māori and Māori culture underpinned

being Kiwi because, as David related:

Māori language, culture and way of life tie into the Pacific.

Snow added:

[Māori] are the indigenous people of New Zealand so when you say Māori, it means

Kiwi. It represents New Zealand as just people.

For Kisina, Māori symbols were part of his aspirational journey in coming to New

Zealand. Image potency made Māori his:

Number one thing.

Tapu continued:

The tiki and the kiwi [bird] are important. They have history as representations of

ancestors and it’s a symbol of culture.

However, for Viliami, coming to know and understand Kiwi identity was an iterative

process:

164 | P a g e

I’m naturalised now; I’m a citizen. But when moving from the Islands to New Zealand,

migrating, I see the Māori as Kiwis and that is before I kind of understand the whole

Kiwi would be… everyone would be Kiwis. But before that, I identified New Zealand as

Māori.

Others in the group were equally aware of Kiwi identity’s temporality. David recalled:

I have pictures of [a moko] and that represents Māoridom and, like Sina was saying, to

me before I migrated over here, every time I looked at the Māori costumes or pictures

of hongi, Māori was my number one Kiwi thought.

As these findings reveal, Pasifika participants held strong bonds with Māori. Those bonds

and Māori/Kiwi identities were revealed and reviewed as the group negotiated their own

changing identities brought about by their migration to New Zealand.

Complementing David’s earlier comment, Aisake succinctly observed:

I am very comfortable in Māori culture. It can be easier than others. In Māori culture I

feel I know what to do.

Pasifika participants were nonetheless aware of the politics surrounding Māori identity.

In talking about an image of the Māori Queen (discussion below) David remarked:

I feel part of Māori culture too, but I stay well clear of the politics that can go with it.

Kisina recognised the politics of identity and the link between Māori and Island cultures:

Māori would be the language, cultures, way of life, how it ties to the Pacific. I don’t

want to get into political stuff either.

Despite reservations reflecting the politics of identity, the Māori language was very

important to this group as a signifier of Kiwi identity. As Snow suggested:

Māori is the official language34. So, in terms of an equal perspective, obviously that is

a Kiwi identifier.

Another image dominating group discussion was of a woman that participants referred to

as the Māori Queen. Viliami sourced this image from the internet. He included it in his

PhotoVoice collection because he was moved by the image’s beauty, composition and

symbolic meaning. Two themes were considered important within this image: the sitter’s

34 Aotearoa New Zealand has three official languages: English, Māori and Sign Language.

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demeanour and poise and, the blend of cultural symbols.

These symbols incorporated Māori and Pākehā cultures.

Viliami proposed:

I love this image. It’s an old photo: a powerful image. It’s beautiful.

I think it’s the Māori Queen. It is one of the strongest senses of Kiwi

identity.

Supporting this, Aisaki mentioned the sitter’s poise:

Have a look at the way she is sitting, she has to be important. Yeah,

regular people don’t sit like that.

The image’s sepia tones added a romantic perspective for

participants. Reflecting its classicality Viliami observed:

It looks like out of a movie, Cleopatra.

Discussion then moved to the image’s materiality. Snow noticed that:

There’re heaps of Māori things and Pākehā stuff too.

That comment created a short debate about which culture dominated the image. However,

it was the sitter’s attributes, demeanour, costume and mere35 that decided its provenance.

David suggested:

Ok the chair and the carpet and drapes look like Pākehā, but she looks Māori to me.

Snow proposed:

Yes, but the Pākehā influences add to the image.

The mix of symbols represented the inclusive nature of being Kiwi for participants.

Encapsulating that Kisina remarked:

I would see that image as representative of European influences in terms of how you

hold yourself and the fact that you might rank highest in Māori. For me, it integrates

both, the best of both cultures.

Consequently, this image was impactful because participants realised its materiality and

the qualities of both Māori and Pākehā that were included in the image.

35 “A short, flat weapon of stone, often greenstone” (Māori Dictionary, 2018).

Figure 72: Māori

‘Queen’.

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The New Zealand Flag

New Zealand’s flag represented two important themes for this group. The first defined

the nation’s history. The second reflected the transitional experience of participants as

they moved between aspiring to come to New Zealand and gaining residence.

Reflecting the former and the distinction flags generally conferred, Viliami proposed that:

The Kiwi flag isn’t the Union Jack. That wouldn’t be Kiwi at all. It would be English.

We are mixed race here and the flag, I would say, this would be the symbolic of being

Kiwi.

David added:

Yes, but this place [New Zealand] was settled by the English.

Those comments led to a discussion on the New Zealand flag’s symbols. Tapu noticed

that:

There is the Union Jack in the corner, but the stars are unique to

here, so it shows the history.

Countering that, David proposed in reference to the lack of

Māori symbols on the ensign:

Yes but not all the history, just the English history.

Then, realizing the politics inherent in discussing the flag,

Aisake said:

Let’s not get into that political stuff.

Consequently, the discussion moved onto exploring how the flag’s meaning had changed

for participants. Those changes paralleled their own identity transitions from aspirant

migrant to resident.

Despite its historical undercurrents, the Kiwi flag represented a holistic and temporal

symbol of Kiwi identity for this group. Recognising that, and the identity transitions they

had experienced, Kisina commented:

I think, with the flag, its value is emphasised when you become a Kiwi. Then, you kind

of associate everything to it, once you‘re being a citizen. So, the flag identifies you,

identifies the culture – everything that ties to it, even the benefits, even the land; even

the spoken language. Everything. So, the value would be, as a whole; so, for me, it’s

quite important. I would see it as significant value to myself.

Figure 73: The New

Zealand flag.

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The flag was unifying. It fostered feelings of belonging as their own migrant identities

unfolded. As Kisina observed:

First, I saw the flag as a hosting country; like, it doesn’t really sit right until you‘re

actually a Kiwi. Until then, you‘re kind of a visitor.

Viliami agreed recounting that:

You’re kind of being tied to it, as I mentioned before; the naturalising is a big punch

too; it means being a Kiwi; and then you kind of more value the flag, because it identifies

you.

While the flag was a static symbol, its meaning for participants was dynamic. As their

status changed, so too did the flag’s meaning and relevance.

Discrimination and Stereotype

In becoming Kiwi, Pasifika participants experienced discrimination and stereotyping. As

Snow recalled:

It something you have to accept. It takes a while for Kiwis to include you in their circle

or culture.

Aisake noted that:

In some areas of New Zealand where it’s predominantly white people, such as the

private schools and other parts, when you’re a blackie, a coloured; they sort of, you

know, there’s that invisible barrier. You feel it’s there.

David felt compelled to temper the implications of denouncing experiences of

discrimination in New Zealand, saying:

Kiwis are multicultural. We are freer here … well, for example, if you go to Australia,

I think … Kiwis are friendlier.

Tapu concurred, adding that it was:

Not really terrible but uncomfortable, yes uncomfortable.

David suggested that discomfort was felt as something that Pasifika immigrants:

Just have to accept.

Adding to the group’s feelings of discrimination was their concerns about Auckland city’s

ghettoisation. Of particular note was how the media negatively portrayed the city’s

southern suburbs by linking crime to their Pasifika and Māori populations. Reflecting

that, Kisina remarked that:

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There is a general knowledge that South Auckland, that’s where the criminals are and

that’s where I and Māori are pretty much living. So, to me, that’s discriminatory against

Pacific and Māori.

Viliami blamed the media:

I would blame the media for it; it paints a negative picture of South Auckland. They

never display something positive about it and almost, you know, the only thing you hear

about South Auckland is reporting criminal stuff, you know.

Media’s link of these suburbs to specific ethnicities and crime David suggested:

Becomes a cycle, right.

Viliami suggested that:

A lot of good things happen in [South Auckland suburbs]. They are just ignored by

media.

While participants agreed that media played a key role in creating a negative Pasifika

stereotype, Snow thought that government intervention also contributed toward South

Auckland’s ghettoisation:

I don’t blame people who live there because it’s the government’s creation. If you think

back to the seventies, a lot of us Pacific Islanders were living in Ponsonby36 and then

later they pushed Pasifika people out.

According to Aisake, part of the movement of Pasifika peoples away from inner city

suburb living was financial incentive:

You hear of government incentives of $5,000 for people to move out.

For David, that process created feelings of:

Oh, no, not again.

He suggested that Pasifika people had to stand up and do two things, break down the

barriers and be brave about taking risks. He continued:

Nothing will change people’s ideas about South Auckland until they realise that it is a

good place to live with good people living there.

While these participants came to New Zealand “for a better life”, these findings reveal

that this has been a double-edged sword. While maximising their educational

opportunities, my Pasifika participants have faced discrimination and objectification.

36 A gentrified inner-city suburb of Auckland.

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Despite those negativities, a sense of self-empowerment and alignment with Māori

dominated their discourse in positive and meaningful ways.

The All Blacks

Many Pacific Island nations and New Zealand share a love of rugby. The All Blacks were

a key aspirational theme, as summarised by Aisake:

Before moving to New Zealand, every kid in the Island wants to be an All Black.

Viliami added:

Without the All Blacks no-one would know New Zealand and without the All Blacks,

there wouldn’t be rugby.

Unsurprisingly then, Pasifika participants included

the All Blacks in their considerations of Kiwi

identity. What the All Blacks signified to this

group, over and above their sporting prowess, was

the embodiment of Kiwi characteristics. Noting that

“the All Blacks are the best rugby team”, Pasifika

participants identified teamwork as a reflection of being and becoming Kiwi. Kisina

observed that:

The All Blacks represent a country of people and how they perform on the field.

Performance was characterised by success, another characteristic they associated with

being Kiwi. Kisina surmised:

Kiwis love winning. They are passionate about what they like.

The All Blacks mediated feelings of belonging. Participants talked about players as if

they knew them, and former All Blacks captain Richie McCaw was a favourite and

typified that association. However, the All Blacks were also an important determinant of

participant loyalty. That was particularly evident when the All Blacks played Samoa or

Tonga. Participants really enjoyed telling these stories. As Snow advised:

To me, I cheer for Tonga but at the same time within me, it’s like the All Blacks.

Aisake added:

Figure 74: The All Blacks.

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I am so proud to be Tongan and to cheer for them but in terms of recognising where I

live, I also acknowledge the All Blacks, you know. It’s something that I always do. But

it’s a different story when the All Blacks play other teams.

Participant identification with the All Blacks was important because it revealed key

characteristics they associated with being Kiwi. Their discussion also revealed that

despite their New Zealand residency, Pasifika participants’ thoughts were never far from

home. In that way, rugby also reflected the dual realm of existence my participants

experienced.

In the following chapter I extend my findings by presenting a discussion and the

conclusion to my thesis.

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Chapter 7: Discussion and Conclusion

Introduction

My participants’ perceptions of kiwiana and Kiwi identity contrasted with existing

literature. To be clear, my participants recognised that only four items of existing kiwiana

were important to them in reflecting Kiwi identity. The four items were Tip Top ice

cream, barbeques, the All Blacks and the silver fern. Consequently, as I will discuss in

the following section, a new range of kiwiana has potentialised new ways of being Kiwi.

While I have clearly linked kiwiana to Kiwi identity in this thesis, I have been at pains to

establish that kiwiana is not the sole domain of Pākehā. My research, through participant

input, has clearly established the self-ascriptive nature of the identifier Kiwi for anyone

choosing it. Similarly, this research aligns Māoriana as kiwiana. For participants and

researcher, Māoriana and kiwiana are situated side by side. Again, that finding, as this

discussion will show, contrasted with existing literature.

With these points in mind, this chapter is structured in the following way. To begin I

discuss kiwiana and Kiwi identity. I compare and contrast participant realities of kiwiana

and Kiwi identity with literature. Then, I discuss PhotoVoice and qualitative description.

That discussion is important, since it was through the combination of PhotoVoice and

qualitative description that my participants have realised Kiwi identity and kiwiana in

new and exciting ways. As a result, I have identified new Kiwi myths. These myths were

discerned by my participants and interpreted by me, cognisant of methodology and

findings.

In light of my findings and the first stage of my discussion, I present my construct of

Fourth Wave Migration and Identity Construction. As I have come to understand it,

migration has created changes in Kiwi identity and kiwiana. My construct of Fourth Wave

model expands my thoughts on this phenomenon. Finally, in a combination of topic and

methodological discussion, I conclude my thesis. In doing so, I consider my research

limitations, possibilities for future research, and the potential wider impact of my

research. Then, I leave my readers with a final reflective commentary.

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Kiwiana and Kiwi Identity

My Latinx, Pasifika and Chinese participants’ constructs of Kiwi identity and kiwiana

stand in stark contrast with existing literature on both topics. To be clear, of the 44 items

of kiwiana noted in my literature review, my research participants recognised that only

four of those items were important to them. Those four were Tip Top ice-creams,

barbeques, the All Blacks, and the silver fern. Consequently, a new range of kiwiana, as

identifiers of being Kiwi, has been uncovered in this research.

Kiwiana

As my literature review noted, kiwiana includes simple household items within the

retrospective narratives of accumulated symbols reflecting national identity and imbued

with accumulated meaning (C. Bell, 2004, 2012a, 2015; Neill, 2013a; 2013b).

Consequently, kiwiana’s ‘uniqueness to New Zealand’ has created insular narratives.

Literature reveals that those narratives are linked to Pākehā culture (C. Bell, 1996).

However, some vernacular authors (Wolfe & Barnett, 2001) have also linked kiwiana to

Pākehā and Kiwi identities. Either way, kiwiana has reinforced, through materiality and

actant narrative, New Zealanders’ unique place in the world. Notwithstanding, this

uniqueness, expressed via kiwiana materiality (excluding indigenous flora and fauna), is

questionable (Neill, 2013b). What existing constructs of kiwiana tell us is that Aotearoa

New Zealand has been more of an ‘isolated special needs workshop’ than a contemporary

social laboratory of the world or a considered player in a globalised world economy.

Consequently, with those points in mind, the following sections extend my findings

chapter and respond to my research question and aim.

My research asked: “In what ways do Kiwi identity and kiwiana hold relevance for non-

Pākehā migrant communities?” My participants have suggested that new realisations of

kiwiana reflect globalised themes. These themes are imbued with economic potential and

bring about new behaviours. Many of those behaviours are linked to urban lifestyle.

Consequently, my research reaffirms a wider pattern of being in New Zealand: the move

toward city/urban living. In that way, ‘new’ kiwiana has moved the nation forward by

embracing global rather than local perceptions. My participants have realised

McKergow’s (2000) deeper understanding of the plurality involved in being Kiwi. Table

26, below, outlines my participants’ constructs of kiwiana. As with older kiwiana, if

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indigenous Māori elements, flora and fauna are excluded, it can be seen that these new

items of kiwiana are not unique to Aotearoa New Zealand. An asterisk in Table 26

identifies those items.

Table 25: New constructs of kiwiana.

Chinese Constructs Latin American Constructs Pacific Island Constructs

Treaty of Waitangi

Nature

Coffee*

Wine*

Māori

Nature

Black Passport/Fern

Silver Fern

Mānuka Honey

Education*

Food

Housing*

Infrastructure/Amenities*

Note. * indicates items not unique to Aotearoa New Zealand.

My participants offered an invigorated view of a dynamic Kiwi identity expressed

through new kiwiana. Their attention to what constitutes Kiwi identity and kiwiana

reverses the present notion of Māori subordination to Pākehā. That revision bypasses both

Pākehā and Māori, because its genesis lies with my participant groups. In that way,

participants have realised not only new ways of being, but also new ways of becoming.

That becoming begins with Māori. It concurs with Awatere’s (1984) much earlier (and at

the time, highly controversial) position.

In combining the positions of Awatere in 1984 and my participants in 2016-2018, it is

evident that identity in Aotearoa New Zealand is contested but, within its “site of

struggle” (Cohen, 2012, p. 141), positive change has occurred. If, as C. Bell (2012c)

reminded us, material items are imbued with meaning, then new meanings within new

materialities potentialise and recognise new ways of both being and becoming.

Leading the way within this nexus of being and becoming are Māori identity, culture and

materiality. In that regard, it was unsurprising to me that my participants did not

differentiate kiwiana from Māoriana. To them, Kiwi identity could be claimed by anyone.

With that claim, participants realised that new materiality was an inclusive part of

changing identities. Participants judged no materiality to be less or greater than any other.

In that way, being Kiwi began with being Māori and then extended equitably outward

from there.

In those ways, the new items of kiwiana could be categorised in two distinct but

complementary ways:

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transcendent or aspirational materiality, holding spiritual meaning (Māori, Treaty of

Waitangi, education, nature, silver fern, and passports); and

commercial materialities validating identity (coffee, wine, mānuka honey, food,

housing, and infrastructure/amenities).

These categories transcend C. Bell’s (1996) rhetoric that Kiwis have insecure identities.

I suggest that new items of kiwiana empower Kiwis. That empowerment was expressed

within a more complete identity toolkit of materiality. The toolkit’s strength lies in its

combination of materiality and aspiration: the wairua of being Kiwi. In that way, belief

transcends being. New kiwiana facilitates self-belief inasmuch as Kiwis are freed from

the burden of having to constantly remind themselves who they are (C. Bell, 1996). Ways

of being have fallen away into ways of becoming. New materiality has empowered Kiwi

identity in ways not dissimilar to that of gay identity. Act-Up’s chant: “we’re queer, get

used to it” (Metro, 2018, para.1) resonates with a new and emergent Kiwi identity. Both

identities resonate without apology or an insecurity of being (C. Bell, 1996). The “site of

struggle” (Cohen, 2012, p. 141) for emergent Kiwi identity in this research is moving

toward a new confidence of being. That future is encapsulated in my Fourth Wave

Migration and Identity construct (see the section on “Why is Kiwi Identity Changing”,

below).

However, the signs of Kiwi identity transitioning to a more independent sense of self have

been there for some time. Setting aside Awatere’s (1984) views on the lack of Pākehā

culture, more recent immigration changes have influenced the nation’s demographics and

therefore ways of being Kiwi. Yet Kiwis’ confidence in being Kiwi has an inconsistent

history. That history and its inherent insecurity of being is linked with New Zealand’s

relationship with England. Exemplifying that situation, I draw attention to the following

historical events that have created an insecurity of identity for many Kiwis:

New Zealand’s unquestioned loyalty to Britain. That loyalty was evidenced by an

early settler desire to make New Zealand the England of the South Pacific

(Beaglehole, 2012). Similarly, there was New Zealand’s unquestioned military

loyalty to Britain: “Both with gratitude for the past and confidence in the future, we

range ourselves without fear beside Britain. Where she goes, we go. Where she stands,

we stand” (Ministry of Culture and Heritage 2017, para. 4).

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The insecurity of identity inherent in the economic insecurity that arose when Britain

joined the European Economic Community in 1973 (BBC, 2008).

The surge of an independent identity with New Zealand’s anti-nuclear stance (in

1984); (Carlyon & Morrow, 2013).

In contrast to that background, more recently, Professor Paul Spoonley, interviewed in

the New Zealand Herald, discussed the nation’s independent spirit and ethnic identity

diversity. As Spoonley observed, “In the scheme of things, we as New Zealanders have

come an incredibly long way in terms of how we view diversity. ... Today a majority of

Kiwis are just embracing and enjoying what ethnic diversity brings” (Tan, 2012, para.

17-18). For this research, that diversity brings new materiality and, with it, new ways of

being Kiwi.

Similarly, the realisation of kiwiana as a mediator of consumer identity contrasts with

previous literature. The savings made by adopting an innovative ‘she’ll be right’ mind-

set are being replaced by identity constructed through consumption – a Kiwi version of

Veblen’s (1899) conspicuous consumption: ‘flashing the cash’. Knowing about Kiwi

wines and mānuka honey, eating out, impressing others, and seeing flat whites and other

coffees as expressions of identity indicate these are items that have come to express social

(Giddens & Sutton, 2013), economic (Giddens & Sutton, 2013) and culinary capital.

Those expressions were enacted indoors, as participants entertained at home, and in

public arenas that included restaurants and cafés. The innovative ‘number 8 wire’ mind-

set is on the wane. New ways of being and becoming, reflected by my participants, display

and embody new ways of being Kiwi. Those new ways contrast with previous ways of

being Kiwi.

High on the list of kiwiana items were New Zealand wines, mānuka honey, eating out and

flat whites. Participants shared their pride in knowing about those items. Knowing about

where to eat, what wine varietals to drink, ice cream and coffees generated feelings of

participant belonging. My participants enhanced those feelings through comparison.

Those comparisons were healthy. Research participants came to know, via comparison,

new products and, by association, the new knowledge and behaviours associated with

them. Consequently, products such as coffee, wine, food, honey and ice cream are

mediating agents used by my participants in negotiating their changing identities.

Cumulatively, those changes reflect the transition between being (Chinese, Latinx, or

176 | P a g e

Pasifika) and becoming Kiwi. However, that becoming, for participants, was not total.

Participants, especially my Pasifika group, maintained strong links to home and their

Pacific Island identities.

However, identity through consumption highlights how people find meaning and security

within materiality. As Perez, Castaño and Quintanilla (2010) noted, people buying (fake)

luxury goods expressed their desire to “belong to a social class” (p. 220). That desire

emanated from their efforts to “construct a positive self-image” (Perez et al., 2010, p.

220). In a similar way, purchasing items such as coffee, wine, food, honey and ice cream

displayed characteristics that can be understood through social identity theory because

participants displayed behaviours that were aimed toward pursuing an identity which they

perceive to have a higher status: the Kiwi identity.

While the concept of identity via consumption raises some interesting questions, many of

those questions lie outside the scope of this research. Nonetheless, they are noted here

and highlighted as domains for further research. For example, it would be interesting to

ask: ‘How have the marketing strategies for Aotearoa New Zealand, as a tourist

destination, influenced my participants’ kiwiana and Kiwi identity realities’?37

Underpinning that question lies a darker dimension: Is New Zealand ‘selling itself’ in

accurate and sustainable ways? Are towns embracing kiwiana, such as Otorohanga, relics

of a passing age?

An interesting way to respond to that question is to consider how the blend of spiritual

and commercial themes that my participants identified are portrayed in the media. A

simple way to do that is to use the phrase ‘about New Zealand’ as a Google keyword

search. Googling those words produces 801,000,000 results in 0.68 seconds. The primary

site reached, after advertising material, is the Tourism New Zealand website at

https://www.newzealand.com/int/facts/ (Tourism New Zealand, n.d.). Images on that site

were revealing. I discovered that many of the images on that site were very similar to my

37 My contact with Tourism New Zealand revealed: “As a heads up, our consumer insights team conducts

image research in offshore markets on what the target audience in that market most associations with New

Zealand. With that information, we use the images that perform the best in the market in our advertising

and on our website. So it’s likely that the image in question is an image that resonates with your research

audience” (personal communication, July 25, 2018).

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participants’ PhotoVoice images. Some of the images included on that site are shown in

Figure 75, below.

The website images included the black Kiwi passport, the country’s geology and

geography, food, the hongi, and the symbols of the nation included the nation’s currency.

These coincidences are alarming. I wonder, to what extent migrants are influenced by

media ‘bites’ and images as vectors of knowledge in coming to know the country and

being Kiwi? That consideration has led me to question my own research.

I wonder, have I overlooked something which subtly influences us all: the media. My

thinking that my participants were ‘tabula rasa’ was naive. Should I have asked all my

participants a simple question: ‘What internet sites did you first visit when you were

considering migrating to Aotearoa New Zealand’? Now, I propose that the pernicious

influence of media has influenced my participants and therefore my research. My

recognition of it acknowledges the wider rhetoric of advertising and marketing

executives. Those executives might well believe that ‘yes, we are going well; Kiwi

identity is coming along nicely. Soon people will be buying what we want them to buy,

visiting the places we select for them and eating the foods and enjoying the cultures we

decide are important to them’.

My acknowledgement of media influence extends C. Bell’s (1996) observation in

Inventing New Zealand: Everyday myths of Pākehā identity that middle-aged, middle-

class, Pākehā, male media executives play decisive roles in deciding what topics are to

be consumed by the general public. Consequently, I identify the need for more research

exploring the media/migrant mind-set nexus. It is against that background that I wonder

how and where my participants came to their notions about the Treaty of Waitangi, nature,

education, housing and infrastructure. Is it possible that wider factors have influenced my

participants’ thoughts, either directly or indirectly?

Figure 75: Images from Tourism New Zealand (n.d.) website.

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In coming to Aotearoa New Zealand, it would be natural for migrants to be interested in

the nation’s history and first peoples. That interest was realised for participants within

being Māori, Māori culture and the Waitangi Treaty grounds. While wine, mānuka honey,

eating out and flat white coffees reflected commercially realised identity, Māori, Māori

culture and the Waitangi Treaty grounds signified transcendent or aspirational

materiality, holding spiritual meaning. In likening Māori culture to that of ancient Italy,

and Aztec and Mayan cultures, my participants realised the depth and meaning inherent

in Māori culture. I suggest that my participants’ view is not commonly held in New

Zealand today. Exemplifying that is the sub-categorisation of Māoriana by C. Bell

(2012c). Consequently, and in that way, my participants show a way forward. By their

example, they indicate that being Māori, and Māori art and culture, need to be revered in

the same ways that many Kiwis consider the cultures of Europe. Possibly because of the

subjectified nature of Māoriana, as art and culture, it has become a taken-for-granted

symbol of national identity (Billig, 1995). As participants noted, that taken-for-granted

nature of Māori culture means it is appropriated by many Pākehā as and when their need

arises.

I suggest that what can be learnt from my participants within constructs of kiwiana is that

Māori culture is special and unique to this country. Māori culture holds similar mana to

the ancient cultures of Europe, although it is expressed in different ways. Thus, being

Māori, and Māori culture and art, meet the criteria of an older kiwiana inasmuch as Māori,

Māori culture and art, as new kiwiana, are actually unique to Aotearoa New Zealand.

Kiwi Identity

Being Kiwi is an identity of self-ascription. Despite its use in the media as a catch-all

identifier, ‘Kiwi’ is imbued with the whakapapa and mana incorporating the nation’s

military history, pioneer spirit and ‘can-do’ attitude. In those ways, and in vernacular

expression, being Kiwi has come to represent innovation and ‘punching above one’s

weight’. As Sands and Beverland (2010) noted, Kiwi is a positive and vernacular

identifier for people from Aotearoa New Zealand. Consequently, Kiwi identity is imbued

with a lineage of history. Like history, that lineage and meaning are not easily changed

and at the same time have multiple and complex interpretations. Nonetheless, this

research has signalled change. Two overarching themes encapsulate that change: being

Māori/Māori culture and nature. That emphasis and these combinations were borne out

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by my participants’ commentary. They proposed that indigeneity is a primal force within

Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Table 27, below, presents constructs of Kiwi identity

identified by participant groups.

Table 26: New constructs of Kiwi identity.

Chinese Kiwi Identity

Constructs

Latin American Kiwi Identity

Constructs

Pacific Island Kiwi Identity

Constructs

● Geology/geography ● Democracy/law and order ● Retirement ● Tip-Top Ice-cream

● Coffee ● Nature ● Going barefoot/Casual

dress ● Barbeque

● Māori ● New Zealand’s flag ● Discrimination/stereotype ● All Blacks

My participants made it clear: the current bifurcated relationship between Māori and

Pākehā is waning, and a new Kiwi order is about to replace it. Aligning with Awatere

(1984), that new Kiwi order places Māori first. This realisation echoes the relationship

between Māori and Pākehā advocated by Michael King (1999), inasmuch as Pākehā are

a younger sibling to Māori. Supporting that position, participants aligned Māori culture

to that of ancient Europe and the Americas. In this way, the historical face of Aotearoa

New Zealand has also changed. As my participants revealed, the nation’s history can now

be seen through a wider, more holistic lens. That lens incorporates pre-European

settlement and Māori culture as points of distinction. That distinction, participants

realised, was comparable to that of ancient Rome, Aztec or Mayan cultures.

This signals a radical change in mind-set. While the first European contacts made with

Aotearoa New Zealand by Tasman and Cook are still likely to dominate the nation’s

history, my participants offer a more pragmatic view. As migrants who may be unfamiliar

with the nation’s European history, their view, in stressing the importance of Māori

culture, invites us to consider a revised history. While the pre-European history of New

Zealand is not currently ignored, inasmuch as New Zealand, unlike Australia, has not

been presented as terra nullius, a wider view of that pre-European history emphasises the

place and importance of Māori, thus placing Māori history at the forefront of

consciousness. In doing so, the place of Cook and Tasman need revision. In these ways,

the insights of my participants that included nature and Māori have the potential to effect

change.

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That change would challenge C. Bell’s (2012c) assertion that Māoriana is a subcategory

of kiwiana. Likewise, A. Bell’s (2006) commentary suggesting the nation is bifurcated

would also be challenged. While my participants did not emphasise a ‘one people one

nation’ mind-set, they nonetheless promoted a new social order. In this way, my research

revealed that, should more Kiwis, over time, subscribe to the positions of my participants,

a new power dynamic may emerge within the nation. As perceived by my participants,

that power dynamic would place Māori first.

Since my participants identified new forms of kiwiana, its comes as no surprise to me that

their thoughts about Kiwi identity also challenged existing constructs. As I have come to

understand it, my research participants identified several key characteristics that they

believe constitute the ‘new Kiwi’ identity. With that in mind, the aim of this section of

my discussion is to discuss and analyse and, at points, synthesise the new characteristics

of Kiwi identity. To achieve that, I have come to understand that my participants’ views

can be seen as metaphors. Sometimes my participants’ metaphors included active

comparison between what participants have experienced in New Zealand and in their

countries of birth. My view is that being Kiwi, for my participants, has an active

association to the land. Participants expressed that connection in multiple ways; however,

their emphasis was the same: being Kiwi and its materiality, kiwiana, were about

belonging to the land and how that association generated feelings of belonging. In that

way, new concepts of being Kiwi aligned to being Māori, particularly within the construct

of turangawaewae. Similarly, my participants’ views aligned with King’s (1999)

suggestion that people living in New Zealand by choice, who were committed to the land

and its people, were equally as indigenous as Māori.

In reading, re-reading and considering my findings I have come to understand that while

my participants discussed specific topics, such as the All Blacks, the silver fern or ice

cream, those discussions held deeper meanings than the topics themselves. Without

adding another theoretical dimension to my work, I can see that my participants have

engaged the heteroglossic voice (Bakhtin, 1981). That voice articulated multiple

meanings spoken from a range of different perspectives albeit contemporaneously.

Therefore, I draw out the participant expressions discussed below as metaphors for

something else: knowing and belonging as a Kiwi expressed within their multi-voiced-

ness.

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I suggest that references to New Zealand’s geothermal activity and the ability to see

rainbows were, for participants, metaphors of change. Aotearoa New Zealand’s place

within the ring of fire38, I have come to realise, represents not only the nation’s geologic

fragility but also its innate potential, through geothermal activity, to produce energy and

create new land. That dynamic, when transferred to participant realities, reflects their own

changes and emergence as ‘new’ Kiwis. In the same way that the geology reflects change

and newness, rainbows signify new participant experiences. In that way, participant

perspectives on democracy, law and order, and the Big Gay Out are, I suggest, additional

metaphors and manifestations of new earth, perceived by participants within wider

geological shifts and changes. For my participants, those shifts and changes were realised

as they negotiated their own dynamic identity nexus and as they gained new knowledge

influencing that change.

In this way, diversity and the acknowledgement of new ways of being were made

possible. In my findings, as I have come to understand them, new ways of being were

best exemplified by participant comments about the Big Gay Out and the role of police

in New Zealand society. Extending that were participant realisations of the diversity

within university education that, in turn, created a feeling of equity within New Zealand’s

socio-culture. Reinforcing those realisations and the place of many minorities in New

Zealand was participant recognition that many minorities in New Zealand have

institutional support.

Consequently, living in New Zealand and becoming Kiwi realised new ways of being and

becoming for my participants. Exemplifying that were participant realisations of casual

dress, going barefoot and socialisation. For many participants those Kiwi habits were

initially hard to accept. However, over time, participants adapted and embraced a more

casual way of being. I suggest that, casual dress, going barefoot and socialising at

barbeques has a connection to the land. It also connects with the first metaphor of

geothermal activity representing ‘new land’. The barbeques, socialisation, and music

events that participants discussed were held outdoors. They were connected to the land.

Nature was never far away. My participants were aware of this. Over time many

participants enjoyed direct contact with the earth by going barefoot. Casual dress, and

38 The volcanic and geologically unstable Pacific Rim region incorporating the west coast of the Americas

and to the eastern coasts of China, Japan and down to New Zealand (National Geographic, 2015).

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being in touch with nature and the land, enabled participants to come to know a wider

diversity of people in New Zealand’s social situations, such as barbeques, than many of

them had experienced in their home countries. Thus, nature and the land acted as

metaphors of welcome and introduction, as each participant came to recognise and

appreciate their own turangawaewae within wider constructs of being Kiwi. In this way,

my participants realised a new stage in being Kiwi through a Māori lens. Just as Māori

remove their shoes on entering the marae, and farmers removed their work boots before

entering their homes, my participants now also go barefoot. They have come to know,

through their own socialisation and their own observations, ways of being Kiwi that are

quite different to the behaviours they engaged in their home countries. For my

participants, going barefoot no longer represented an expression of poverty, but rather

freedom in their direct contact with the earth. In these ways, and as my later section of

writing explores, participants adopted a ‘when in Rome’ mind-set.

Similarly, Kiwi identifiers including wine and the flat white also acted as metaphors. My

participants, particularly my Latinx participants, ‘used’ flat white buying opportunities to

get to know the personalities of the café owners. In suggesting that each flat white had a

personality, my participants exposed a wider reality. Consuming flat whites, like other

forms of socialisation, especially barbeques, gave some participants the opportunity to

get to know Kiwi culture through the personalities of café owners. In that way, flat whites

mediated the discourses empowering my participants in commercial encounters.

Consequently, participant experiences of flat whites were not dissimilar to participant

experiences of Kiwi wine. Both wine and flat whites became tools of empowerment. Both

wine and coffee enhanced my participants’ social, culinary and economic capital as they

‘flashed the cash’ with their conspicuous consumption (Veblen, 1899).

With those metaphors in mind it is unsurprising, to me, that Māori culture, art and ways

of being were highlighted by participants as being vitally important in constructing Kiwi

identity. Again, I realise that participant acknowledgement of Māori is open to a

metaphorical interpretation. As tangata whenua, Māori have an established

turangawaewae. It is toward that position my participants aspired. For this research,

participants noted that the Māori contribution to Kiwi identity was seminal. Being Māori,

Māori culture and the Māori worldview dominated participant constructs of being Kiwi.

Māori offered being Kiwi a culture in deep and meaningful ways. That depth contrasted

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the comparative shallowness participants observed in Pākehā identity. For participants,

the depth and longevity of Māori culture were its standout attributes, its point of

distinction. Thus, being Māori and Māori culture realised another metaphor: that being

Māori or recognising Māori culture provide the attributes needed in being and becoming

Kiwi. Primary among these attributes was participants’ relationship with the land,

expressed through nature, geology and geothermal activity.

Extending that position was the participant discussion on the All Blacks. While the All

Blacks were perceived as a great rugby team, participant discussion about the team

revealed many characteristics that participants attributed to Kiwi identity. Those

attributes included aspirations of achievement; sportsmanship; being successful; and

passion and commitment. While those new characteristics are also found in the results of

the Colmar Brunton Kiwi survey (as cited in Akoorie, 2014), I suggest that a new

dimension is emerging in Kiwi identity: the aspiration to be successful. For me, that

aspiration contrasts with an older Pākehā notion, ‘the tall poppy syndrome’.39

To conclude this section, I suggest that identity in Aotearoa New Zealand is undergoing

change. That change reflects a movement away from Pākehā dominance toward a

worldview emphasising Māori. Contributing to an understanding of that change is my

construct of migration waves, discussed later in this chapter in the section “Why is Kiwi

Identity Changing?”. The participants in this study, from Chinese, Latinx and Pasifika

backgrounds, understand being a Kiwi as being someone who is in touch with nature,

Māori culture art and ways of being, sociable, emotionally reserved, a team player, keen

to win, determined, passionate and someone who preferred economic consumption over

practicability.

Underpinning Theory

Identity Theory

In terms of Tajfel and Turner’s (1979) social identity theory and Stryker’s (1980) identity

theory, my participants engaged salient and dynamic identities (Stryker & Burke, 2000).

That range reflected how my participants identities changed from aspirant migrant, to

migrant, and finally to resident. Within each identity and each transition, participants

39 The tendency to be critical of high achieving or successful people (Urban Dictionary, 2018b)

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negotiated their understandings of Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Understandings were

actualised as participants grasped the meanings they associated with the new kiwiana they

had identified. In turn, those meanings and associations influenced their perceptions of

being and becoming Kiwi. Consequently, my choice of identity theories reflected

participant realities as well as the dynamism of identity, and identity transition was

directly linked to participants’ construction and concepts of knowledge and their wider

understandings of the world around them. In this context, participant ontologies and

epistemologies were dynamic ‘works in progress’, adapted them to suit their situational

needs. Discussions of Kiwi identity and kiwiana within focus group and interview settings

revealed how participants negotiated the “world in which they live” (Woodward, 2004,

p. 7) and, in that sense, identity was expressed through metaphors of change that

emphasised new ways of being and becoming experienced within participant mobility.

Accordingly, identity and actant materiality, as expressed in PhotoVoice imagery and

focus group and interview discussion, were actualisations of participants’ constructs of

their realities. My participants’ negotiation of identity through these constructions linked

being and becoming to Berger and Luckmann’s (1966) social construction of reality.

Experiencing and gaining knowledge about Kiwi identity and kiwiana were iterative

processes for my participants, socio-temporally located and then captured in my research.

PhotoVoice and Qualitative Description

As I begin my discussion on PhotoVoice and qualitative description, I am reminded of

Oscar Wilde. Wilde did not ‘do’ PhotoVoice or qualitative description. Nonetheless, he

provided an insight into how media such as PhotoVoice distance participants from a topic

yet can simultaneously bring them closer to it. In Wilde’s words: “Man is least himself

when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth” (as cited

in AZQuotes, n.d., p. 9). Forgiving Wilde’s masculine emphasis, as I have come to

understand, through my own and my participants’ use, PhotoVoice is a ‘mask’ à la Wilde.

For my research, PhotoVoice provided my participants with their ‘first’ voice. That voice

was beneficial in two distinct ways. Participant images captured a moment in time. That

time included, for participants, the image’s accompanying narrative and the rationale of

its taking. Secondly, PhotoVoice provided participants with a shared equitable language

through image. However, Photovoice may also have subtle deficits. In taking photos,

participants created distance. That distance can be realised in two ways. In retrospect, I

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wonder how the narratives participants told me may have differed from the narratives

participants experienced when the images were first captured. Compounding that are two

situational possibilities. The first is that participants amended their narratives in the time

between taking them and their focus group or interview meetings. Additionally, I wonder

if peer pressure during focus group image discussion encouraged participants to amend

or edit their initial narratives. I call those possibilities ‘narrative lag’. Consequently, I

draw attention to how a PhotoVoice image’s meaning might change for participants, or

become diluted over time or by the influence of others.

On reflection, with these possibilities in mind, my choice of qualitative description was a

wise one. I believe that my dalliance with hermeneutic phenomenology and the

consideration of other methods given a ‘yes’ in Table 20 foreshadowed my concerns

about narrative lag. Now, I can see further reasons why hermeneutic phenomenology was

unsuitable. The beauty of qualitative description lies in its ability to provide a closer

account of my participants’ experiences of Kiwi identity and kiwiana than any other

methodology might do. Thus, I suggest, qualitative description allows for narrative lag.

That allowance is manifest by the fact that qualitative description does not encourage

deep interpretation of participant realities. Consequently, stories emerging from

participants are as close as one can get to their reality. For me, then, qualitative description

was aligned to the informality and conversational mix within interview and focus group

data collection that make the use of talanoa and fonofale a cornerstone throughout my

participant encounters. That, as Lambert and Lambert (2012) noted, achieved the “design

of choice when a straightforward description of a phenomenon is desired” (p. 256).

Overall, therefore, my research counters the suggestion that qualitative description has

“low impact [and] low status” (Sandelowski, 2000, p. 335) inasmuch as qualitative

description conveyed my participants’ voices better than any other method could have

done. That voice was, of course, amplified through PhotoVoice.

Material Culture

In identifying new items of kiwiana and constructs of Kiwi identity using PhotoVoice,

my participants affirmed Seymour-Smith’s (1986) understandings of material culture

inasmuch as they recognised the link between ‘things’ and people. As they told their

stories about their images, they not only reinforced new conceptions of being Kiwi but

also demonstrated the relationship between people and ‘things’. That relationship is the

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essence of material culture research. Within that relationship, I realised that my research

incorporated the first four of the research themes suggested by Crane and Bovone

(2006)40. That realisation highlighted to me the multiple dimensions required to

understand the relationship between people and ‘things’.

In discussing their PhotoVoice images in focus group or interview situations, my

participants related active narratives that brought to life the story of the item through their

eyes, integrating the essence of material culture, people and ‘things’. In doing so,

participants actively reaffirmed and negotiated their Kiwi-ness with others in their

research group. Material culture theory, as presented within my theoretical framework,

provided participants with a platform for facilitating not only narrative, but also mediums

of understanding and tools to negotiate identity and materiality.

Why is Kiwi Identity Changing? Driving Factors for Change

In response to the question posed in the heading for this section, the short answer is that

Kiwi identity is changing as a consequence of inward migration and increased ethnic

diversity in New Zealand. However, that answer needs to be explored in detail. In Table

28, I present an overview of the characteristics of my four-wave construct of Kiwi identity

and kiwiana.

40 Crane and Bovone (2006) recommended that material culture can be explored in the following five ways:

By exploring material culture as text expressing ways of being within cultures.

In considering how materiality and its meaning are conveyed through media.

By asking how collective meaning is conveyed within cultures through material items.

In considering how people negotiate their own meanings of materiality cognisant of “the symbolic

values attributed to material culture by producers of material culture” (p. 319).

By exploring, in different locations, “cross-national studies of symbolic values expressed in material

goods and of the systems that produce them in order to reveal differences in the types of symbolic

values” (p. 319).

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Table 27: Characteristics of Kiwi identity/kiwiana waves.

Waves of Kiwi Identity and Kiwiana

First Wave Kiwi Identity and Kiwiana

The attributes of colonist settlers of hard work, mateship and innovation provide the starting point

for emergent Kiwi identity (see Chapter 4: Literature Review).

1830–1930 (approx.)

Second Wave Kiwi Identity and Kiwiana

The evolution of materiality connecting ‘being Kiwi’ to ‘things’. Items of kiwiana are noted in

Chapter 4: Literature Review.

1930–1955 (approx.)

Third Wave Kiwi Identity and Kiwiana

The period of “Golden Weather” (Carlyon & Morrow, 2013, p. 3). Consumer popularity of kiwiana

materiality. A reassurance based in a retrospective look back to ‘the good old days’.

1955–1984 (approx.)

Fourth Wave Kiwi Identity and Kiwiana

Characterised by the impact of migrants on Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Their views contribute

‘fusions’ that shape future materiality and identity in the country. This also reflects the actant nature

of “the rhizome” (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987).

1984–present (approx.)

The four waves of Kiwi identity and kiwiana not only reflects their socio-temporality but

also the influence of Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) rhizome. For me, research participants

were active rhizomes. Each brought with them an “infinity of traces” (Gramsci, 1995, p.

324). Those traces reflected their own culture, genealogy and worldview. In discussion

(focus group or interview), participants shared those traces using communicative tools

empathetic with Deleuze and Guattari’s (1987) rhizomatic structure. Cumulatively, those

processes, through lines of flight, deterritorialisation and reterritorialisation (Deleuze &

Guattari, 1987), promoted my understanding of participant experiences of Kiwi identity

and kiwiana. In that way, participant engagement within this research has generated “a

new reality, by making numerous, often unexpected, connections” (Livesey, 2010, p. 19)

about what now constitutes Kiwi identity and kiwiana. In that way, my research

demonstrates the importance of rhizomatic structures within identity formation and

materiality.

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First Wave Identity and Materiality

I propose that first wave identity and materiality reflected the attributes of ‘belonging’

experienced by colonist settlers (C. Bell, 1996, 2004, 2012c; Phillips, 1987). European

settlers had to be resourceful (C. Bell, 1996, 2004, 2012c). Many relied on the generosity

of Māori (Bentley, 2007). Colonial identity was confined and conferred within the

tyranny of distance (Blainey, 2001). Distance fostered innovation as colonist settlers

improvised materiality ‘until the next ship arrived’ (C. Bell, 1996, 2004, 2012c; Phillips,

1987). Consequently, opportunities flourished for many settlers (Hunter, 2007). That

contrasted with their class groupings and restrictions in England (Phillips, 1987). In New

Zealand, that comparative freedom promoted the myth of egalitarianism (C. Bell, 1996,

2004, 2012c). In those ways, identity and materiality were characterised by practicality.

It was the combination of comparatively unrestricted opportunity and practicality that

promoted the cult of mateship, innovation, making do and ‘turning your hand to anything’

(Phillips, 1987). In that sense, it was not surprising that early settler culture was

dominated by men (Phillips, 1987). Continuing male dominance in New Zealand’s early

culture was war. World War One solidified Kiwi identity (Wolfe, 1991). The practicalities

of the New Zealand soldier reinforced those of the colonist settler (Wolfe, 1991; New

Stone, 2015). Therefore, I suggest that it was the time period from 1830 to around 1930

that established the characteristics of ‘being Kiwi’ and the practical nature of its

materiality.

Second Wave Identity and Materiality

The depression of the 1930s brought hard times for New Zealanders (King, 2003).

‘Making do’, innovation and a ‘she’ll be right’ attitudes served many of the country’s

population well (C. Bell, 1996, 2004). Having survived the depression, a system of trade

tariffs ensured that Kiwi businesses dominated the home market (C. Bell, 1996, 2004,

2012b). That move fostered innovation. It also served to concretise Kiwi characteristics

in the public psyche. Consequently, this period realised the manufacturing of ‘things

Kiwi’, many of which later became kiwiana. Kiwiana and buying within the ‘home

market place’ provided the necessary identity security that countered the insecurities of

the Great Depression and World War Two (C. Bell, 1996, 2004, 2012b). Economic

growth consequent to the war married the importance of being Kiwi to its materiality:

kiwiana. That period began the ‘golden weather’ (Carlyon & Morrow, 2013). It also

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promoted further migration to New Zealand from England (Phillips, 1987) foreshadowing

New Zealand’s changing place in the world.

Third Wave Identity and Materiality

The ‘golden weather’ was characterised by full employment and a surety of being

(Carlyon & Morrow, 2013) during which consumers purchased items of kiwiana (C. Bell,

1996, 2004, 2012b; 2012c). The ‘golden weather’ embodied the characteristics of the

previous two periods. However, cracks were beginning to show that reflected globalised

thinking, being and becoming. The emphasis on New Zealand being a Pacific Rim nation,

and not a colony of England, created distance (King, 2003). The 1960s caused further

change as young people had relatively more freedom and more disposable income than

ever before (Carlyon & Morrow, 2013). Young people reflected that the wider world was

changing. The ‘golden weather’ was not to last. It ended abruptly when England dumped

New Zealand in favour of the European Economic Community (Humpage, 2017). The

neoliberal reforms of the 1980s confirmed its death. For many New Zealanders, hard

times returned (Rashbrooke, 2013). The neoliberal nation had to find its own way in a

globalised economy. That transition promoted the embellishment of feelings about ‘the

good old days’ (C. Bell, 1996): the days of ‘golden weather’. Many longed for their return.

However, Kiwi identity also began to change. The emphasis on ‘maleness’ was still there,

but the ‘metrosexual’, the gay rights movement and the residue of 1960s pop culture

ensured the nation would never be the same again (Carlyon & Morrow, 2013). For many

this heightened their longing for ‘the good old days’ when things were ‘simpler’.

Fourth Wave Identity and Materiality

Finally, the fourth wave influencing identity and materiality is found in my research and

the voices of recent migrants. Immigration from multiple sources has changed the face of

New Zealand (Statistics New Zealand, 2013). Migration to New Zealand from countries

other than Britain has made the fourth wave distinctive. My participants exemplify that

distinction. They have brought new views, and new ways of being, becoming and

behaving that have sown the seeds that will reinterpret what it means to be Kiwi. That

potential promotes social change. As migrants use lines of flight (Deleuze & Guattari,

1987), the nature of being Kiwi and its materiality are actant ‘works in progress’. Those

changes reflect the deterritorialisation and reterritorialisation (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987)

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of identity and materiality. In these ways, Kiwi identity and kiwiana have changed,

through migrant input, from static retrospectives into dynamic ‘blue-sky’ possibilities.

Within the bounds of my research limitations (see below), this research revitalises

existing constructs of Kiwi identity and kiwiana. The source of those changes is not the

descendants of the nation’s 19th and 20th Century European settlers, the Pākehā. Rather,

Kiwi identity and kiwiana’s revitalisation has occurred as a consequence of migration, as

reflected by my participants’ contributions. This change challenges what many New

Zealanders identify as givens: constructs of being Kiwi and kiwiana. My findings

potentialise a new nationalism that places Māori, and Māori culture and art, at the

pinnacle of what it means to be Kiwi. Those changes and that position challenge the

existing status quo.

Four New Myths of Being Kiwi

My research has identified new views, as discerned by my participants, about Kiwi

identity and kiwiana. Consequently, cognisant of D. Bell’s (2003) mythscape, particularly

the socio-temporal nature of myth, in Table 29, below, I present four new myth

possibilities.

Table 28: Four new myths of kiwiana and being and becoming Kiwi.

I Came, I Purchased,

Therefore I Am Meaningful Māori Nature Enter Me The Machine is Me

This myth regards

kiwiana as pivotal in

creating Kiwi identity

through economic and

libidinal consumption

(imbibing).

Reflecting this within

my thesis:

Identity formation

via conspicuous

consumption

This myth emphasises

the Māori worldview,

art and culture as the

preferred Kiwi way of

being.

Reflecting this within

my thesis:

Māori worldview,

art and culture were

seminal constructs in

This myth, building on

‘Meaningful Māori’

and contrasting with ‘I

Came, I Purchased,

Therefore I Am’,

positions being Kiwi as

being in touch with

nature and valuing

sustainability.

Reflecting this within

my thesis:

An emphasis on the

outdoors and the

primordial flora and

This myth proposes

that, over time, Kiwis

have become dupes.

Unable to think for

themselves, like the

‘good old days’, new

Kiwis are willing

victims of marketing

and advertising

executives.

Reflecting this within

my thesis:

The extension of

the rhizome in

Deleuze and

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(Veblen, 1899),

evidenced by

consumptive

practices, including

coffee, food, wine

and ice cream.

These food items and

their consumption

was underpinned by

the formation and

expression of

cultural, social and

economic capitals,

facilitating feelings

of belonging as a

Kiwi.

the formation of

Kiwi identity. That

identity was

underpinned by the

emphasis and

importance

participants gave to

items of Māoriana.

The importance of

Māori worldview,

art and culture

compensated for the

lack that participants

perceived in Pākehā

culture

Finally, participants

did not differentiate

kiwiana and

Māoriana.

Participants

perceived material

items that reflected

being Kiwi

fauna of the

country.

The realisation that

the land is

geologically a

‘work in progress’.

This realisation was

a metaphor for the

participants own

experiences and

changing identities.

The connection

between being

(having an identity)

and the land placed

participants on

common ground

with Māori and the

construct of

turangawaewae.

Guattari’s (2000)

machine.

The advertising

‘machine’, fed with

data, marketing and

advertising sound

and vision bites

surreptitiously

manipulates the

collective psyche,

taking the rhizome

to new levels of

being.

The precursor to

the machine is

exemplified by the

current marketing

strategies engaged

in by Tourism New

Zealand.

As I have come to understand myth in explaining its meanings and implications in

Chapter 2: Theoretical and Conceptual Framework, the four myths I propose in Table 29

are relevant and need to be considered as future myth possibilities because they:

Reflect Cassirer’s (1972) suggestion that myth constitutes knowledge synthesising

ontology and epistemology.

Contain important messages for people (Arlington Classics Academy, 2017; Harper,

2017; Huber, 2013).

“Express [and] enhance […] codified belief (Malinowski, 1926/1954).

Reveal the inner workings and fundamental beliefs of a society (Levi-Strauss, 1981).

Provide a connection between ancient stories “and the emotional concerns of modern

life” (Young, 2005, para. 12).

Link ways of being to capitalist culture (Barthes, 1973).

Reflect contemporary living and ways of being (Campbell, 1988).

Simplify, dramatise and selectively narrate “the story of a nation’s past and its place

in the world […] subsum[ing] all of the various events, personalities and traditions,

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artefacts and social practices that (self) define the nation and its relation to the past,

present and future” (D. Bell, 2003, p. 75).

Research Limitations

As Hess (2004) observed: “All studies have limitations” (p. 1240). This research was not

an exception. However, I view my research limitations as opportunities. Limitations open

up research to further exploration. Table 29, below, identifies the research limitations I

encountered and notes how these limitations were expressed in the research. Following

Table 30, the research limitations are discussed.

Table 29: Research limitations.

Limitation Research Expression

● Age of participants.

● Number of participants.

● Heteronormative gender bias.

● Length of residence in New Zealand.

● Reliance on snowball sampling.

● Use of mediator.

● Inconsistent focus group/interview use.

● No Māori input.

● The average participant age was mid-late twenties.

● There were six members of each research group.

● Men and women were solicited for research.

Gender diversity was not a research consideration

● Participants had to have less than three New

Zealand residence.

● Participant groups relied on snowball sampling.

● One focus group and all interviews did not have a

moderator.

● Mix of focus group and interview.

● Migrant research focus.

Age, Number of Participants and Length of Residence

This research had a limited participant age range. Participant ages ranged from early

twenties to mid-forties. Ideally, a wider age range may have facilitated enhanced data.

However, deciding on six participants per group facilitated an almost even gender spread.

Given research time constraints, this was a manageable number. Participant selection

reflected their New Zealand residence of not more than three years. That period was

important. As researcher, I wanted participants to be able to recall ‘life back home’, and

the steps in their migration processes that culminated in their gaining New Zealand

residency. I considered that choosing a group with longer New Zealand residence may

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not have provided the depth of thought I believed participants experienced in their

migration transitions and consequent identity changes.

Heteronormativity

The identifiers ‘male’ and ‘female’ are limiting. They reflect prescription and self-

identification. Male and female identities may include lesbian and gay men. However,

they do not include the other 58 gender categories Goldman (2014) noted. While I am

aware of gender diversity, it simply was not possible to recruit participants not identifying

as either male or female. However, making such additions to the participant groups would

not guarantee that each participant group would offer equal representation or provide

‘better’ data than a group consisting of male/female participants only might do.

Snowball Sampling and Mediator Use

Snowball sampling facilitated participant contact. However, snowball sampling may have

restricted group composition because some participants knew others and introduced them

to the research. These introductions may have introduced ‘others like themselves’. This

may have influenced the potential for diversity. Consequently, the use of snowball

sampling may be perceived as a research limitation. Yet participants knowing each other

and introducing others facilitated a friendly and warm research environment. That

environment in turn gave depth to the research.

Additionally, participants who were interviewed did not have a focus group mediator.

This inconsistency may also present a research limitation. However, in retrospect, I felt

that this inconsistency was beneficial to this research because it allowed participants to

voice their opinions within a ‘different space’.

Focus Group versus Interviews

Not all participants attended their focus group session. This necessitated follow-up,

individual interviews. While this is noted as a research limitation, interviews added depth

to participant commentaries. However, the goal of research design was to complete data

collection within focus groups settings. In this regard, interviews can be perceived as a

research limitation.

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Māori Input

The research asked three migrant communities their views on Kiwi identity and kiwiana.

However, the thematic analysis of the data, and the findings that emerged, revealed that

Māori culture and Māoriana were key constructs within participants’ perceptions. While

this was a research finding, this research had no direct Māori input. Consequently, this

limitation and research finding leads to the identification of a domain of future research.

Future Research Recommendations

This research challenges existing constructs of Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Consequently,

a multitude of future research possibilities can be identified. While addressing the

research limitations noted in the previous section provides an obvious starting point, other

options exist.

The most urgent of the future research possibilities would be similar research

incorporating Māori voices. This addition would expand upon this research and provide

another avenue for the exploration of Kiwi identity and kiwiana. Such research would be

timely. It would reflect the interest Māori have in the identifier Kiwi, and create a synergy

with the shared spirituality and ways of being, and with the esteem which participants

held for Māori. Similarly, research on this topic, but with rurally based migrant

communities might expand upon this work in new and exciting ways.

While my research was designed to explore migrant experiences of Kiwi identity and

kiwiana, my work may also provide informational benefit to others. This benefit might

arise from the sharing of my work in wider migrant communities. The benefit might also

accrue to the marketing and advertising of Aotearoa New Zealand by offering an emic

perspective reflecting how migrants feel about being Kiwi and about kiwiana as they

negotiate their adjustment to life in Aotearoa New Zealand. Within those two situations

lies the opportunity for other research to build upon the knowledge that I have generated

from the contributions of my 18 wonderful participants.

Closing Reflections

I began this thesis with the goal of answering my research question, which asked: In what

ways do Kiwi identity and kiwiana hold relevance for non-Pākehā migrant communities?

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After considering multiple methodological perspectives, I feel that my choice of

qualitative description and PhotoVoice were best choices. These choices facilitated my

findings that, in so many ways, contrasted with existing literature. Consequently, my

work has made significant contributions to academic knowledge about Kiwi identity and

kiwiana.

My research has enabled the voices of my minority migrant participants to be heard. In

that way, my research has affirmed their experiences and validated their opinions. My

research has also caused my participants to stop and think about their lives and

experiences in terms of being Kiwi and kiwiana. The opportunity to stop and consider

‘what’s happening?’ can be a positive reflective experience. This research provided a time

for active reflection. As my participants negotiated their own changing identity and

aspiration to be Kiwi, they have come, through time, to a deeper understanding of that

experience. In that way, my work is an encouragement for other migrants to pause and

think about how structural factors influence their lives and how they come to negotiate

those influences.

However, those contributions and the processes I engaged in to achieve them are, in my

opinion, only a small part of what it took to produce a thesis of examination quality. Many

events, thoughts and feelings coalesced in my mind that are not recorded here. Going to

bed, thinking about my thesis. Dreaming about my thesis. Waking up with ideas to begin

sentences, or round out my writing, indicate that my involvement with this research has

been total. ‘Total’ included a vast range of emotions. Completing a PhD can be a bipolar

experience: it holds great highs and devastating lows. In that regard, what is only partially

written about is how completing this research has changed me as a person.

That change has been for the good. Earlier in my thesis, I discussed my interactions with

my Pacific Island participants. While I have learnt much about my topic, and enjoyed the

best supervision any student could wish for, it has been my Pasifika participants who have

influenced me in the most profound ways. My Pasifika participants brought me full circle.

They extracted my academic thinking and replaced it with something that I already knew

about but had set aside: hospitality. Expressed within talanoa and fonofale as active

expressions of hospitality, the unwelcome was made welcome, the unmentioned made

mentionable, all in a friendly no-rush, no-pressure environment. In this way, I have

completed a voyage. However, another trip intrigues me.

196 | P a g e

As I have come to know my topic, I have come to know myself. I have come to realise,

particularly as I wrote sections of this final chapter, that this thesis is not the end of my

topic. For me, this thesis has opened up my view, offering ongoing research opportunities.

My thesis has raised more questions for me than it has answered. I have identified

multiple themes that I would like to research and publish on. In a naive way I thought that

completing my PhD thesis would be ‘it’. I really should have known better. I thought the

same after my MA. Then, within two years of its completion I had published nine journal

articles on its topic. I anticipate and look forward to the beginnings of my new journey,

one that started here with a simple question: ‘What about kiwi identity and kiwiana?’ and

will most likely end with a similar number of articles. In this way, my research shows

that in terms of identity and materiality, Aotearoa New Zealand still has ‘work to do’.

197 | P a g e

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221 | P a g e

A Glossary of Māori Words

Note. Most of the definitions in this glossary are reproduced or abridged from the Māori

Dictionary, available online at http://maoridictionary.co.nz/

Aotearoa North Island – now used as the Māori name for New Zealand.

Atua Ancestor with continuing influence, god, demon, supernatural

being, deity, ghost, object of superstitious regard, strange being –

although often translated as ‘god’ and now also used for the

Christian God, this is a misconception of the real meaning.

Haka Performance of the haka, posture dance – vigorous dances with

actions and rhythmically shouted words. A general term for

several types of such dances.

Hapū Kinship group, clan, tribe, subtribe – section of a large kinship

group and the primary political unit in traditional Māori society.

It consisted of a number of whānau sharing descent from a

common ancestor, usually being named after the ancestor, but

sometimes from an important event in the group’s history.

Hawaiki Ancient homeland – the places from which Māori migrated to

Aotearoa/New Zealand.

Hei tiki Carved figure, image, a neck ornament usually made of

greenstone and carved in an abstract form of a human.

Hongi To press noses in greeting.

Iwi Extended kinship group, tribe, nation, people, nationality, race –

often refers to a large group of people descended from a common

ancestor and associated with a distinct territory.

Kahu kurī Dogskin cloak – highly prized cloaks at the time of early contact

with Europeans and were worn by high ranking chiefs.

Kaitaka A highly prized cloak made of flax fibre with a tāniko ornamental

border.

Kaitiaki Trustee, minder, guard, custodian, guardian, caregiver, keeper,

steward.

Kākahu Garment, clothes, cloak, apparel, clothing, costume.

Kaupapa Topic, policy, matter for discussion, plan, purpose, scheme,

proposal, agenda, subject, programme, theme, issue, initiative.

Kaupapa Māori Māori approach, Māori topic, Māori customary practice, Māori

institution, Māori agenda, Māori principles, Māori ideology – a

philosophical doctrine, incorporating the knowledge, skills,

attitudes and values of Māori society.

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Koru Fold, loop, coil, curled shoot; spiral motif (in carving etc.).

Mana Prestige, authority, control, power, influence, status, spiritual

power, charisma – mana is a supernatural force in a person, place

or object. Mana goes hand in hand with tapu, one affecting the

other. The more prestigious the event, person or object, the more

it is surrounded by tapu and mana.

Māori Normal, usual, natural, common, ordinary; native, indigenous;

Māori, indigenous New Zealander, indigenous person of

Aotearoa/New Zealand – a new use of the word resulting from

Pākehā contact in order to distinguish between people of Māori

descent and the colonisers.

Marae Courtyard – the open area in front of the wharenui, where formal

greetings and discussions take place. Often also used to include

the complex of buildings around the marae.

Mauri Life principle, life force, vital essence, special nature, a material

symbol of a life principle, source of emotions – the essential

quality and vitality of a being or entity. Also used for a physical

object, individual, ecosystem or social group in which this

essence is located.

Mere A short, flat weapon of stone, often of greenstone.

Muka Prepared flax fibre.

Ngāi Tahu tribal group of much of the South Island, sometimes called Kāi

Tahu by the southern tribes.

Pākehā New Zealander of European descent – probably originally applied

to English-speaking Europeans living in Aotearoa/New Zealand.

Pakepakehā Mythical beings – beings with fair skins resembling people.

Pāua Abalone, sea ear, Haliotis spp. – edible univalve molluscs of

rocky shores that have flattened, ear-shaped shells with a row of

small holes for breathing. They have a strong grip on rocks but

move about at night grazing on seaweed. Haliotis iris, the largest

pāua, has peacock-like colours on the inside of the shell.

Pipi Paphies australis – a common edible bivalve with a smooth shell

found at low tide just below the surface of sandy harbour flats.

Hinge is near the middle of the shell.

Pōhutukawa New Zealand Christmas tree, Metrosideros excelsa, Metrosideros

kermadecensis, Metrosideros bartlettii – trees found in coastal

areas which bear large, red flowers about Christmas time and

have leaves which are velvety-white underneath.

Pōkarekare Ana Māori love song, probably communally composed around 1914.

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Pou Post, upright, support, pole, pillar.

Pou whenua Post marker of ownership, boundary marker, land marker post,

land symbol of support – post placed prominently in the ground

to mark possession of an area or jurisdiction over it.

Rangatira Chief (male or female), chieftain, chieftainess, master, mistress,

boss, supervisor, employer, landlord, owner, proprietor.

Tā moko Traditional tattooing – Māori tattooing designs on the face or

body done under traditional protocols.

Taiaha Long wooden weapon – of hard wood with one end carved and

often decorated with dogs’ hair.

Tāne Mahuta Atua of the forests and birds and one of the children of Rangi-nui

and Papa-tū-ā-nuku.

-tanga The suffix added to nouns to designate the quality derived from

the base noun (eg, hapūtanga, iwitanga, kaitiakitanga,

Māoritanga, rangatiratanga, whanaungatanga).

Tangata

whenua

Local people, hosts, indigenous people – people born of the

whenua, i.e. of the placenta and of the land where the people’s

ancestors have lived and where their placenta are buried.

Tāniko Finger woven, embroidered.

Taonga Treasure, anything prized – applied to anything considered to be

of value including socially or culturally valuable objects,

resources, phenomenon, ideas and techniques.

Tapu Sacred, prohibited, restricted, set apart, forbidden, under atua

protection. Restriction, prohibition – a supernatural condition. A

person, place or thing is dedicated to an atua and is thus removed

from the sphere of the profane and put into the sphere of the

sacred. It is untouchable, no longer to be put to common use.

Te ao hurihuri Contemporary influences.

Te ao Māori The Māori world/worldview.

Te Reo Māori The Māori language.

Teina Younger brother (of a male), younger sister (of a female), cousin

(of the same gender) of a junior line, junior relative.

Tī kōuka Cabbage tree, Cordyline australis.

Tikanga Correct procedure, custom, habit, lore, method, manner, rule,

way, code, meaning, plan, practice, convention, protocol – the

customary system of values and practices that have developed

over time and are deeply embedded in the social context .

Tiki Carved figure, image, a neck ornament usually made of

greenstone and carved in an abstract form of a human.

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Tipua/tupua Goblin, foreigner, demon, object of fear, strange being,

superhero.

Tuakana Elder brother (of a male), elder sister (of a female), cousin (of the

same gender from a more senior branch of the family), prefect.

Tūrangawaewae Domicile, standing, place where one has the right to stand – place

where one has rights of residence and belonging through kinship

and whakapapa.

Wairua Spirit, soul – spirit of a person which exists beyond death. It is the

non-physical spirit, distinct from the body and the mauri. To

some, the wairua resides in the heart or mind of someone while

others believe it is part of the whole person and is not located at

any particular part of the body.

Whakapapa Genealogy, genealogical table, lineage, descent –

reciting whakapapa was, and is, an important skill and reflected

the importance of genealogies in Māori society in terms of

leadership, land and fishing rights, kinship and status. It is central

to all Māori institutions.

Whānau Extended family, family group, a familiar term of address to a

number of people – the primary economic unit of traditional

Māori society. In the modern context the term is sometimes used

to include friends who may not have any kinship ties to other

members.

Whenua Country, land, nation, state.

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Appendix A Methodologies Considered and

Rejected

Before deciding on qualitative description, I considered and rejected several other

methodologies. They were: ethnography/participant observation; grounded theory; action

research; narrative inquiry/oral history; ethnomethodology; analytic induction; case

study; qualitative content analysis, and discourse analysis/critical discourse analysis and

hermeneutic phenomenology. Table 20 details those domains and my rationale for their

exclusion.

Ethnography/Participant Observation

I concluded that ethnography/participant observation was unsuitable for my research

because the extended time needed to engage and immerse myself in the participants’

worlds was not a practical undertaking, owing to the large number of participants in my

groups.

Grounded Theory

While grounded theory is useful in the development of new theory (Bryman, 2008), that

was not a goal of my research work and my research was too far advanced to begin using

this approach.

Action Research

Action research seeks to improve situations (Munford & Sanders, 2003), reflecting the

shared goals of the participants and the researcher. Action research and participatory

action research were excluded as potential methodologies because my research does not

seek to address change or offer a direct benefit to participants. Rather, my research

addresses the perceptions, knowledge and experiences of my participants relating to Kiwi

identity and kiwiana.

Narrative Inquiry/Oral History

Although narrative inquiry is considered important to oral history (Yow, 2005), it was

excluded from my research because my aim was to solicit participant group experiences

in focus groups, not in individual narratives.

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Ethnomethodology

Ethnomethodology exposes the underlying disordered nature of society. Bryman (2008)

described ethnomethodology as a “sociological perspective concerned with the way in

which social order is accomplished through talk and interaction” (p. 693). While

ethnomethodology offers a unique perspective, it was not suited to my research because

it sits in opposition to the constructs of verstehen and symbolic interactionism (Mead,

1934; Van Krieken et al., 2014) and, by association, social constructionism (Berger &

Luckmann, 1966), both of which are central tenets in my research.

Analytic Induction

Analytic induction promotes a researcher’s formation of a working hypothesis that is then

modified over time to reflect the divergence of participant inputs (Bryman, 2008). In

analytic induction, the researcher develops the hypothesis based on those inputs until a

degree of certainty, reflecting the dynamic nature of the hypothesis and participant inputs,

are achieved. I discounted analytic induction because my research capitalised on unique

differences and anticipated that participants may not have had common experiences.

Consequently, my research captured the plurality of thought, feeling, perception and

experience, rather than commonality.

Case Study

Van Krieken et al. (2014) suggested that case studies reflected “the detailed examination

of single examples ... a single institution, community/social group, an individual person,

a particular historical event or a single social action” (p. 474). Bryman (2008) proposed

that case studies may be used for “comparative purposes” (p. 691), and while my research

engaged the detailed examination of single examples, case study was not adopted because

I was keen to distance my research from active comparison between individuals or

groups. This made case study an unsuitable research format.

Qualitative Content Analysis

Qualitative content analysis involves the examination of documents from which meaning

is constructed (Schreier, 2012). Downe-Wamboldt (1992) and Schreier (2012) suggested

that qualitative content analysis served to objectively and systematically describe and

quantify phenomena. However, I did not consider this methodology to be suitable because

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my research focussed on my participants’ direct experiences of Kiwi identity and kiwiana,

not the exploration of their experiences via documentation.

Discourse Analysis/Critical Discourse Analysis

Critical discourse is synonymous with Michel Foucault (1963), exemplified through his

construct of gaze. Foucault (1963) explored the dynamics of power relations inherent to

the gaze within the doctor/patient relationship. Although fascinating, discourse

analysis/critical discourse analysis were not suited to my research because their focus is

on power relationships between participants and not their deeper meaning and lived

experiences which my research concentrates upon.

Hermeneutic Phenomenology

Hermeneutic phenomenology fosters the appreciation and understanding of a

participant’s lifeworld and experiences. Van Manen (2014) captured this within the

construct of the “lived experience” (p. 26). While I was initially attracted to hermeneutic

phenomenology, I found that it encouraged my over-interpretation of my participants’

data. Over-interpretation also encouraged me to textually embellish what my participants

actually told me.

Symbolic Interactionism

As a methodology, Patton (2002) proposed that symbolic interactionism asked: “What

common set of symbols and understandings has emerged to give meaning to people’s

interactions?” (p. 112). Consequently, symbolic interactionism is best suited to qualitative

inquiry because, as methodology, it maximises interpretive processes. It is those

processes that help people make sense of their world. In this way, symbolic interactionism

recognises the importance of language and its meaning as a key factor in the ways in

which people engage and interact.

Table 30: Qualitative research methodologies: Suitability and rationale.

Research Type Characteristics Suitability Reasons

Ethnography/Participant

Observation

Extended engagement/

immersion in participants’

social life by researcher

NO Time limits prevent extensive

immersion in the participants’

world. Also, the topic does not

lend itself to this method.

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Grounded Theory Seeks to generate theory

from the research data

NO A theoretical conclusion is not

the aim of my research, rather

it focuses on the thoughts,

feelings and experiences of

participants in relation to the

topic

Action Research A synthesis of participant

and researcher seeking

change in developing

solutions to specific issues

via research

NO No perceived problem within

‘structure’ is noted in my

research question. My research

does not seek to ‘change’

anything except knowledge.

Hermeneutic

Phenomenology

Generates an understanding

of the lived experience of

participants

NO Participant narrative was

sufficient to describe their

experiences without

unnecessary interpretation.

Narrative Inquiry Presents the ‘story’ of

participants over time

YES This method places the

participant in their story over

time.

Oral History Includes life history, self-

report, personal narrative,

life story, oral biography,

memoir, testament

YES This method is suitable, but it

is time-intensive and, given the

number of participants, this

may be a problem. Also, it

may be difficult to determine

‘results’ for migrant groups as

input maybe too diverse.

Discourse Analysis An analysis of talk/

discourse emphasising how

versions of reality are

achieved via language

NO This method assumes a shared

language and my migrant

participants may not share (the

same) language.

Ethnomethodology Examines how social order

is achieved through talk and

interaction – part of

conversational analysis

NO While ‘new’ migrants in my

research may well ‘conform to

social order’, the aim of the

research is neither to uphold

nor examine constructs of

social order; rather it seeks to

examine thought, feeling, and

experience promoting

plurality.

Focus Group Group discussion fuelled by

facilitator/researcher –

emphasises group

interaction and joint

construction of meaning

YES Migrant focus groups could

work in my research.

However, it would be

important that the process of

achieving a joint constructed

meaning was included in the

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research … and not just the

group’s final decision.

Analytic Induction Seeks universal

explanations until saturation

is reached with no

contradictory participants

NO My research focuses on the

uniqueness of experience of

migrant thought, feeling,

perception and experience. It is

anticipated that participants

will not share common

experiences in my research.

Case Study A detailed and intensive

analysis of a single case

YES This may work in conjunction

with narrative, presenting each

migrant group as a ‘case’.

Qualitative Content

Analysis

Investigator analysis of

document content

NO My research is not about

documents and their analysis.

Critical Discourse

Analysis

Foucauldian analysis

emphasising the role of

language as a power

resource

NO This method suits participants

with shared and somewhat

equal language skills, which

may not be the case for my

research. However, parts of

Foucauldian theory

(knowledge/power nexus) may

well be useful.

Symbolic

Interactionism

With its base in social

psychology, symbolic

interactionism explores

which symbols and

understandings formulate

interactions between

people.

YES

While suitable inasmuch as

symbolic interactionism

explores meaningful symbols,

as a methodology it is

incomplete because my

research explores more than

the symbols themselves.

However, symbolic

interactionism is important to

my research because it shows

the link with and

meaningfulness of symbols in

human interaction.

Qualitative Description In-depth methodology

focusing on the

participant’s experiences

and researcher exploration

of the topic.

YES This is the best method to

convey my participants’

experiences of Kiwi identity

and kiwiana because

qualitative description allows

the participant voice to

dominate and not be lost

through the researcher’s over-

interpretation.

Note. Adapted from Bryman (2008), Patton (2002) and Yow (2005).

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Appendix B: PhotoVoice Safety Protocol

The researcher is aware of participant and self-safety within the research process. While

no immediate safety issues are noted for this research, the researcher is aware of and will

implement the following safety measures:

1. Ensure participants have a travel budget to attend research meetings.

2. Ensure meetings are held in safe/well-lit, easily accessible spaces. For example, using

AUT facilities at North, City and South Campus will not only provide convenient

locations but also parking and transport options. Many community centres offer

similar benefits.

3. Generate a warm and user-friendly environment for interviews.

4. Advise work colleagues/partner of interview activities/locations and approximate

time durations.

5. Contact one of the people noted in #4, when meetings have ended.

6. Carry a mobile phone for emergency use.

7. Encourage participants to buddy-up by traveling to interview venues together.

8. Participants will be advised not to take photo-images of people without their

permission (also refer #9).

9. Should participants take photo-images of objects that, through circumstance, also

include people, the researcher will pixilate faces, preserving the privacy of any

individual who has not consented (refer #8) to having their image taken.

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PHOTOVOICE PROTOCOL (for Participants)

This protocol is in four parts:

1. Things for participants to do

2. Things participants MUST NOT do

3. Ownership of images

4. Other information

Part ONE : Things for participants to do

1. Be familiar with the photovoice protocol and camera/phone operation

2. Take 10 images reflecting kiwi identity

3. Take 10 images reflecting kiwiana

4. Be aware of public and private space when taking photo’s

5. Upload all images to the site pre-loaded on their mobile phone

6. Make notes about their images as reminders for meeting 2

Part TWO : Things participants MUST NOT do

1. Take photos of people without their permission

2. Take photo’s of any illegal activity

3. Take photo’s in dangerous or unsafe situations

4. Research kiwi identity or kiwiana before taking images

Part THREE : Ownership of Images

The photographs will be used for academic purposes only and will not be published

in any form outside of this project without the researcher asking my permission.

Any copyright material created by the photographic sessions is deemed to be

owned by the researcher and that I do not own copyright of any of the photographs

Part FOUR : Other information

1. After you have completed Part ONE you can keep the mobile phone. It’s yours!

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Appendix C: Participant Information Sheet

and Consent Form

Participant

Information

Sheet

Date Information Sheet Produced:

18th May 2015

Project Title

In what ways do kiwi identity and kiwiana hold relevance for non-Pakeha migrant communities?

An Invitation

Hello, my name is Lindsay Neill and I am studying to complete a PhD qualification at AUT University in Auckland.

I would like to invite you to participate in my research which explores migrant perceptions of kiwi identity and kiwiana. There is no obligation for you to participate, and your contribution to my research is voluntary. You will be able to withdraw from my research at any time before the research is completed. There is no penalty for you should you decide to withdraw.

What is the purpose of this research?

Your participation and the research itself will help me to successfully complete my PhD qualification at AUT University. As well as this qualification, my research will also be used within conference presentations and academic journal publishing. Within all research publishing and presentations you will not be identifiable.

How was I identified and why am I being invited to participate in this research?

You have responded to an advertisement that I placed in your community centre. Consequently, you have been invited to participate in this research because you self-identify as Chinese, Latin American, or as Pacific Islander migrant who is over 20 years of age, and have been in New Zealand for less than three years. My research does not involve any other migrant groups.

My research is about your impressions of kiwi identity and kiwiana, and as a recent migrant to New Zealand you are ideally placed to participate in my research.

What will happen in this research?

My research explores your thoughts, feelings, perceptions and experiences of kiwi identity and kiwiana.

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Before your agreement to participate I will answer any and all questions you may have, run through a Participant information sheet, then after one week, confirm your participation by asking you to sign a Consent Form.

After this I will arrange a meeting with all participants in your migrant group. At this meeting I will run through a process that I would like you to use to capture images of kiwiana and kiwi identity. The process is called photovoice.

So you can use photovoice I will supply you a mobile phone that has a camera. I will ask you to take 10 images of things you believe reflect a kiwi identity and 10 images you feel reflect items of kiwiana. You will be trained how to use the mobile phone and camera. Also, at this meeting you will be advised of the safe parameters within which you can use photovoice. For example, it may not be a good idea to take photos of other people without their permission. However, if you were to take an image of an item that also included people, I would pixelate their face so they would not be recognisable in the research We will cover the ‘do’s’ and don’ts of using photovoice.

It is important that you understand that the images you are taking are on behalf of the researcher, who will own their copyright.

I will load your mobile phone with enough money so you can send your images to me. I will explain and show you how to do this. After your part in the research has been completed, the mobile phone is yours to keep.

After I have received all images from your group (you will be given three weeks to collect and then send your images) I will arrange a convenient time for a meeting with your group. This meeting will be digitally recorded, but your name or other details will not be part of this meeting. You will not be identifiable.

A facilitator will manage this meeting. I will be there to take some notes and take the digital audio recording. At the meeting you will have ample opportunity to explain the meaning of the images you have taken within the constructs of kiwi identity and kiwiana. Before the meeting closes, your group will decide the best 10 images that they feel reflect kiwi identity and kiwiana.

My research will use the stories, and final selected images, your group relates during the meeting.

What are the discomforts and risks?

There are no discomforts and risks for you in participating in my research. Your participation is voluntary and you may withdraw at any time before the end of the data collection.

How will these discomforts and risks be alleviated?

Should you experience any discomfort you can ask the researcher directly, or through your community leader, to delete comments or images causing your discomfort.

What are the benefits?

This research will benefit you because it provides an opportunity for you to give me your honest thoughts, feelings and experiences about kiwi identity and kiwiana in a safe environment. The research also provides an opportunity for you to think about two ideas within New Zealand culture (kiwi identity and kiwiana) that you may otherwise not have time to consider. Participation will increase your knowledge about New Zealand through your input and the opinions of others in your group.

For me the research is beneficial because it will aid my goal to get a PhD qualification at AUT University.

How will my privacy be protected?

Your privacy will be respected. For my research, I invite you to select a pseudonym that you feel comfortable with and will use consistently throughout this project. While your chosen pseudonym your ethnicity, age and gender will be integrated into the research, you will only be identifiable, within those domains.

What are the costs of participating in this research?

Apart from time, there is no other cost to you in participation.

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However, when the research is complete you are able to keep the mobile phone in recognition of your participation.

What opportunity do I have to consider this invitation?

You will have one week to consider participating in this research.

How do I agree to participate in this research?

After one week I will supply directly, or through your community leaders, a Consent Form. Your agreement to participate is confirmed by your signing this form. However, even if you sign the Consent Form you are still able to withdraw from the research at any time.

Will I receive feedback on the results of this research?

Yes. I will give you access to a url where my thesis will be uploaded. You will be able to access all parts of this document.

What do I do if I have concerns about this research?

Any concerns regarding the nature of this project should be notified in the first instance to the Project Supervisor, Prof. Marilyn Waring, AUT University. mwaring@aut.ac.nz 09-921-9999

Concerns regarding the conduct of the research should be notified to the Executive Secretary of AUTEC, Kate O’Connor, ethics@aut.ac.nz , 921 9999 ext 6038.

Whom do I contact for further information about this research?

Researcher Contact Details:

Lindsay Neill AUT University Wellesley Street Campus Auckland City lindsay.neill@aut.ac.nz 09-921-9999 extn 8442.

Project Supervisor Contact Details:

Prof. Marilyn Waring, AUT University. mwaring@aut.ac.nz 09-921-9999

Approved by the Auckland University of Technology Ethics Committee on type the date final ethics

approval was granted, AUTEC Reference number type the reference number.

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Consent and Release Form For use when photographs, videos or other image recording is being used

Project title: In what ways do kiwi identity and kiwiana hold relevance for

non-Pakeha migrant communities

Project Supervisor: Prof. Marilyn Waring

Researcher: Lindsay Neill

I have read and understood the information provided about this research project in the Information Sheet dated 18th May 2015.

I have had an opportunity to ask questions and to have them answered.

I understand that I may withdraw myself, my image, or any other information that I have provided for this project at any time prior to completion of data collection, without being disadvantaged in any way.

If I withdraw, I understand that all relevant information will be destroyed.

I permit the researcher to use the photographs that are part of this project and/or any drawings from them and any other reproductions or adaptations from them, either complete or in part, alone or in conjunction with any wording and/or drawings solely and exclusively for (a) the researcher’s portfolio; and (b) educational exhibition and examination purposes and related design works.

I understand that the photographs will be used for academic purposes only and will not be published in any form outside of this project without my written permission.

I understand that any copyright material created by the photographic sessions is deemed to be owned by the researcher and that I do not own copyright of any of the photographs.

I agree to take part in this research.

Participant’s signature: .....................................................…………………………………………………………

Participant’s name: .....................................................…………………………………………………………

Participant’s Contact Details (if appropriate):

………………………………………………………………………………………..

………………………………………………………………………………………..

………………………………………………………………………………………..

………………………………………………………………………………………..

Date:

Approved by the Auckland University of Technology Ethics Committee on type the date on which the final approval was granted AUTEC Reference number type the AUTEC reference number

Note: The Participant should retain a copy of this form.

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Appendix D: Facilitator Briefing Sheet

Here is an overview for this Saturday. Thank you for helping...I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!

● Have a read...If you have questions lets meet or correspond by email. By Saturday you need to be very comfortable in ‘knowing what to do’.

There will be a max of 6 people including you and me for the Saturday session.

Read the email below (end of page)...that all the participants were sent today. (big picture stuff).

Here is what I would like you to do: (the doing, smaller but really important stuff)

1. I will (after the lunch) when we return to AUT...Introduce you and then give an overview of my research...and thank the participants. Then I’ll sit down and make notes.

2. EVERYTHING WILL BE RECORDED...I will transcribe this. I’ll take care of recording. 3. You and our participants are welcome to speak Spanish. If you notice people are having

trouble with English...just tell them ‘tell me in Spanish’....a translation fee for you later! We need to allow people to tell their stories the best way...that easiest for them...BUT a preference for English (or I’ll not know what the hell is happening). Pay particular attention to any words that don't translate well...ie if someone is speaking Spanish...some worlds may not be the ‘same in English’. This could be important because it may infer importance...and I’ll miss it because I don't speak Spanish. You may need to make some notes of these things as they happen.

4. Before the focus group, each participant took 10 photos of kiwi identity and 10 photos of kiwiana. THEIR FIRST TASK (Saturday) IS TO LIMIT THESE IMAGES>>>BY REDUCING THEM TO 5 of each. So five are discarded. I will supply their images. They have sent them to me ages ago.

● You want them to talk about their best 5 of each (kiwi id and kiwiana). Preferably one image at a time, but some may combine images and talk about 2 at once.

● If this happens get them to say the number on the back of the image ...so when I hear the recordings I know exactly which image they are talking about

SHOWeD is part of my methodology. Here is an outline. It forms the base for the questions you will ask participants.

● What do you See? ● What is really Happening here? ● How does this relate to Our lives ● Why does this concern, situation, strength exist? ● How can we become Empowered through our new understanding ● What can we Do?

SHOWed was designed to give minorities a voice in dominating cultures. It's used by recovering drug addicts to tell their story in research...for example. Consequently I can't use all of SHOWeD...It might not work...SO we could think about SHOWeD in an amended way…I recommend that you think about using this model…

● What do you See?...here you ask them ‘tell me about this image. This response may run into the next theme too…(responses won't be as simple as the acronym...dont worry its my task to sort that out!)

● What is really Happening here?....why does this image represent kiwi identity or kiwiana...in other words tell me more about what you see...dig down and tell me more about this images importance to you

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● How does this relate to Our lives ...as a Latin American why/how does this image hold importance to your life here in New Zealand

● Why does this concern, situation, strength exist? When you selected this image from all the images you took, can you tell me why you chose it over and above any other image. Here get people to possibly clump themes...so they might say ...I chose this picture of a green paddock to reflect NZ identity because I was amazed at how many farms I saw when I came here. Then when I took my photo’s I realised that I had taken several images that were all sort of the same ..farms. This is my best one.

● How can we become Empowered through our new understanding? How does this image reflect any changes you have experiences as a migrant to New Zealand

● What can we Do? Can you tell me about how images reflecting kiwi identity and kiwiana have changed since your early days in Aotearoa New Zealand until now.

General tips

THROUGHOUT ALL SHOWeD...encourage them to tell stories and even act out parts of their photo. This is important because I want to analyse their speaking position. If they all just describe stuff it will be boring…

Think about how sometime you me and [colleague’s name] are a bit silly when we are together, telling jokes and or making fun of one of us. I'd like them to be like that too. Animated…

● Make sure all participants talk about all their images ● You have 80 images...so we need to move at pace ● If we started at 2-30 (after lunch...we need to be finished by 4-30 ...5pm latest)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Below is an email I have sent to our participants...FYI.

Hello everyone. I am very excited about this Saturday... It is a big step in my research and I'm looking forward to hearing about your kiwiana and kiwi identity images.

Just to remind you ...we will

1. Meet at 1pm outside the School of Hospitality and Tourism AUT University, City campus.

The building is on the corner of Mayoral Drive and Wellesley Street, opposite the back of the City Library and also opposite the City Art Gallery (the old one).

The building is also known as WH Block. BUT look for restaurant signs Piko and Four Seasons. Meet at ground floor level entrance.

2. After meeting we will go to a nearby cafe/restaurant for lunch and refreshments (bring your appetite). This is my treat. You will also receive a small koha.

3. After lunch we will all return to AUT for the focus group.

4. The focus group will be facilitated by [facilitator’s name]. I will brief [facilitator’s name] well before we meet, but...

5. In essence [facilitator’s name] will guide you through the Photovoice acronym SHOWeD. The acronym will help you to discuss your images.

6. I recommend that you do not Google SHOWeD because your spontaneous responses are more valuable than a 'more considered' response might be. Rest assured there is nothing to 'worry' about. [facilitator’s name] and I will take great care of you.

If in the meantime you have questions...please email.

My mobile is [private phone number]...on Saturday if you are lost or late ...just call me.

See you Saturday @ 1pm.

Best wishes

Lindsay

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Appendix E: Researcher’s PhotoVoice

Experience

Kiwi Identity

This is a picture of the Hokianga. I took it at the height of summer. It’s very New Zealand.

Blue skies and sea, lots of sun, and best of all not many people ... just a seagull and a kid

on a bike. This evokes rest, relaxation, summer heat and the beach for me. It’s the opposite

of what I normally ‘see’ in the city. It reminds me of holidays when I was young at Kaka

Point near Balclutha. Fun times by the sea that anyone can access, all it takes is time.

Summer at the beach

Kiwi Identity

Native bush reflects Kiwi identity. It’s where kiwi live. However, much of the land has

been cleared. This took considerable effort. Clearing the land created and reinforced a

Kiwi identity. Kiwi identity has been hallmarked by hard work, determination and the

independence of colonist/settlers. What a shock this jungle must have been to settlers

from the United Kingdom. It says something about the plentiful nature of nature in New

Zealand.

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Kiwi farmers Kiwi bush

Kiwi Identity (kiwi farmers)

This is an image by Marti Friedlander. I didn’t take it, but wish I had. Growing up in a

farming area, I saw people like this all the time. Friedlander took this photo in Balcultha.

Balclutha is about 20 miles from where I grew up. Being Kiwi is often about ‘being a

man’; being male. I put that in ‘ ’ because I was never sure what ‘being a man’ meant.

I’m still unsure what it means. However, these people (farmers) are quite common and

these two typify the genre. The cute younger one and the older one smoking away look

like they are enjoying their break. Farming is hard work. The image evokes

heteronormativity. In that sense I find it limiting, but it was the reality I experienced

growing up. In some ways I could not wait to leave these people behind. Makes me sound

like a proper prat.

Interestingly, years later having ‘left these people behind’ I found it refreshing to

reconnect with them. Something had happened: I had changed. In that change I was no

longer uncomfortable with their heteronormativity, their sense of ‘being a man’.

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Kiwi identity (volcanic bomb)

I’m influenced by what I have read. Compiling this list two years ago would mean a

completely different list. The next image represents the influence of reading on my way

to a PhD. Carlyon and Morrow’s recent History of New Zealand from 1945 has an

interesting art section. It inspired me to look at New Zealand art. The influence lay in the

change from romantic landscape à la Anglaise to a more rugged New Zealand style. I own

a romantic oil of the Wanganui River. It was bought at auction in the 1980s. It may have

been painted 100 years before that. It’s nice enough, the river is laconic, tree ferns bend

to meet it. In the style of John Gully a lone person rows their way along it. Its imagery is

serene, tranquil. However, I contrast it to another more recent work to which I’m drawn.

Art and Object’s auction of Len Castle lot 423 Volcanic Bomb.

Volcanic bomb

Volcanic Bomb reflects Kiwi identity in fragile

ways. How close we are to the earth. How close

the earth is to its own molten core. Auckland,

Rotorua, Hanmer and loads of other places sit on

the earth’s molten core. In a way, and like the land,

we think we have it ‘under control’. But we don’t.

At any moment the volcanic bomb could go bang.

Kiwi identity (the Kiwi)

I’ve not seen one, been aware of hearing one

at night, but I ‘hear’ kiwi all the time. It's

what we call ourselves. Self ascribed, and

ascribed by others. A badge of furry honour.

Kiwis do reflect our identity. They are soft,

cuddly and somewhat awkward. They are

also fiercely aggressive. As people we hold

the same characteristics often tempered within veneers of fluffiness. I don’t think naming

New Zealanders kiwis is about boot polish or the military. Rather it reflects a feisty

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bird/person, who marks their territory and, in an “I can smell the uranium on your breath”

kind of way, isn’t to be messed with.

Kiwiana

Ah, the material culture reflecting our identity. That’s what I tell people who inevitably

ask me “what’s the difference between Kiwi identity and kiwiana”? Like Kiwi identity

my reading and learning have impacted my realisation of what kiwiana ‘is’. I resist the

bifurcation of Māori and Pākehā. I believe materiality represents ‘us’. While materiality

represents ‘us’ it does so in different ways. Neither way is right or better than another,

simply materiality ‘just is’. However, one of the most obvious differences, for me, is that

Māori tend to embrace a reflective spirituality more than Pākehā might. This is reflected

in language. To my ear, Māori have taonga (treasures). Pākehā hold similar treasures but

they are often commodified. Commodification detracts from their spirituality.

Reflectively, that is an odd sentence, but I differentiate spirituality and religion. This

difference is best left for another time and place. My work is not about religion, but it is

about spirituality. For me spirituality incorporates the meanings people give things; the

mana and meanings of things. Consequently, I note my five items of kiwiana.

Kiwiana (greenstone/pounamu)

This is not the best image of greenstone. I

present it as metaphor. I usually think of

greenstone as a big block of rock, a slab of

stone. This is an image of pieces. The pieces

are small, individual, somewhat unique,

easily portable, look good together or

individually. These descriptions could be

applied to us, ‘Kiwis’ . Others could be

added. They could include rugged, unpolished, hard and long-lasting. For Māori

greenstone is a taonga, a treasure; as are each of us. Greenstone comes from the land.

Māori, Pākehā and Kiwis treasure the land, often in different ways. Consequently,

pounamu reflects our uniqueness, our strengths, weaknesses and, as a rock, our durability.

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Kiwiana (the buzzy bee)

I never owned a buzzy bee but I do

remember them. My nieces and nephews

had them. My nephew had one that clicked

as he dragged it around. After a while the

clicking was really annoying. But my nieces

and nephews loved them. They especially

enjoyed ‘eating them’. The wings and

antenna were chewable favourites. Possibly

a consequence of teething, my sister was

forever poking a buzzy bee at one of her offspring. Buzzy bees just were. I cannot

remember someone telling me ‘these are special’. It was not until I started my research

that I began to explore the social significance of the buzzy bee for many Kiwis. I recognise

its ‘literary significance’. Many people, including myself, have written on it and other

‘recognised’ items of kiwiana. However, my experience of the buzzy bee is watching my

nieces and nephews playing with one, then spontaneously chewing on its extremities.

Apart from social meaning, a buzzy bee has a practical use, helping young teeth break

through resistant gums.

Kiwiana (bare feet)

I am influenced by many things including

reading, learning and other people. My

research participants (the Latins and the

Chinese) brought things to my attention.

Some of these things I had never considered

before. Bare feet was one of these ‘things’.

I’m a barefoot person. I go bare foot inside

and outside. I don’t ‘go up the street’ in bare

feet. Many people do. Unlike John Banks I’ve never warmed my bare feet in freshly

deposited cow poop. I do appreciate its practicality however. I saw John Banks once. He

was wearing fantastic Italian shoes. I was impressed. However, I thought that those feet

have also been encased in something much less ‘rated’. Bare feet are very Kiwi. A sign

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of no restrictions; the antithesis of the Chinese bound foot. Feet on the swing epitomise

being Kiwi.

Interestingly, bare feet transcend materiality and identity. They reflect the fluidity of

being we enjoy as Kiwis, young Kiwis and old Kiwis.

Kiwiana (sheep...and wool)

This image links to the two farmers in

Balclutha; the Friedlander image noted in

Kiwi identity. New Zealand is a nation of

sheep. At school I knew exactly how many

million sheep resided on the land. I think the

ratio then was 30 sheep to every person.

Contemporarily, cows have dented sheep numbers. Sheep provide two material items that

I think reflect kiwiana: roast meat and wool. Roasts, on Sundays, were staple fare when I

grew up. Roasts were followed by cold meat and salads until the meat was gone. The

meat was always well done, rare and medium rare sheep and lamb joints had to wait a

few more years. Roast lamb, potatoes and gravy, superb Kiwi food, best cooked by Mum.

Sheep also provide wool. My Mum was a big knitter. I had a jersey made of multi

coloured bits of wool. It was striped. At the time I loved it. In retrospect it was a

forerunner to the David Bain classic! Nonetheless, wool and meat were important

components of materiality: kiwiana.

Kiwiana (milk)

This is not how I remember milk. It came in bottles

and was delivered to your door. Payment was made by

tokens or ‘on account’. At school every student had a

half pint every day. It was full cream. In winter the

half pints were combined and heated with milo or

cocoa to provide a hot lunchtime drink. As primary

school student we took turns preparing the brew. Care

was always taken not to ‘burn the milk’. Then, no one was lactose intolerant. Lactose,

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outside a food chemistry lesson, was not a commonly used word. Everyone drank milk.

Not liking it (read allergic to milk) was not a valid excuse. Consumption was compulsory.

Now milk is bespoke. Men my age are encouraged to drink soy milk. It’s good for

prostate. Growing up I was unaware of soy milk, full fat, skim, low fat, vitamin enhanced

or, flavoured milks. Milk is a reminder of the commodification of everything.

Manufacturers will get you to drink milk ‘one way or the other’.

Conclusion and Reflection

For me, choosing items of Kiwi identity and Kiwi material culture was easy. I have been

exposed to these ‘things’ for most of my life. Choosing them reflects my biases. Choice

reflects the socio-temporal space in which I write, live and have lived. The ‘now’ is a

reflection of the past, grounded in the hope of a future. Milk was possibly the best

example of this transition. Consequently my list of ‘items’ reflect a backdrop to change

and growth. My chosen items are ways that express my life through things and their

meanings for me. Many other people, possibly around my age, may respond to my writing

by recalling similar themes and stories. Others, possibly younger, may have never known

home-delivery milk, or milk in a bottle. This is the beauty of materiality and identity.

Each person writes their own living narrative. All of them are interesting ‘reads’.

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Appendix F: Publications

The publications listed below were completed during the period of my PhD. Their

relevance to my thesis is that they explore identity, Kiwi identity and or kiwiana.

Bell, C., & Neill, L. (2014). A vernacular food tradition and national identity in New

Zealand. Food, Culture and Society, 17(1), 49-64.

doi:10.2752/175174414X13828682779122

Goodsir, W., Neill, L., Williamson, D., & Brown, A. (2014). Journalistic integrity or

arbiter of taste? The case study of restaurant critic Peter Calder. Journal of

Hospitality and Tourism Management, 21, 127-133. doi:

10.1016/j.jhtm.2014.09.001

Neill, L. (2013). But wait there’s more: Why pie carts are classic items of kiwiana. New

Zealand Sociology, 28(2), 98-109. Retrieved from

https://www.nzsociology.nz/index.php/nzs/index

Neill, L. (2015). Gender and the ANZAC biscuit. The Occasional Journal (Love

Feminisms). Retrieved from http://enjoy.org.nz/publishing/the-occasional-

journal/lovefeminisms/gender-and-the-anzac-biscuit#article

Neill, L. J., Johnston, C., & Losekoot, E. (2016). New ways of gazing: The refractive

gaze. International Journal of Tourism Anthropology, 5(1/2), 138-151. doi:

10.1504/IJTA.2016.076852

Neill, L. J., Williamson, D., & Berno, T. (2015). Manaakitanga and Māori Food:

Theoretical perspectives of advancement. Locale: The Australian-Pacific

Journal of Regional Food Studies, 5, 84-101. Retrieved from

http://localejournal.org/issues/n5/Locale%20n5%20-%2007%20-

%20Neill,%20Williamson,%20and%20Berno.pdf

Neill, L., & Bell, C. (2016). ‘Think of New Zealand as a small town’: Methodological

and ethical issues in researching everyday culture. Critical Arts: South-North

Cultural and Media Studies, 30(1), 1-14. doi:10.1080/02560046.2016.1164381

Neill, L., & Hemmington, N. (2018). ‘Savoy Truffle’: Love, lust and longing in a box of

chocolates. Journal of European Popular Culture, 9(1), 5-18. doi:

10.1386/jepc.9.1.5_1

Neill, L., Poulston, J., Hemmington, N., Hall, C., & Bliss, S. (2017). Gastronomy or

food studies: A case of academic distinction. Journal of Hospitality & Tourism

Education, 29(2), 91-99. doi:10.1080/10963758.2017.1297717

Nemeschansky, B., Neill, L., Wright, S., & Brocx, M. (2017). His own kind of honour:

Reluctant celebrity chef Michael Van de Elzen. Celebrity Studies, 8(3), 378-

392. doi: 10.1080/19392397.2017.1288579

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Roberts, M., Andreassen, H., O'Donnell, D., O'Neill, S., & Neill, L. (2018). Tourism

education in New Zealand secondary schools: The teachers’ perspective.

Journal of Hospitality and Tourism Education, 30(1), 52-64. doi:

10.1080/10963758.2017.1413380

Wood, Y.I., Sturny, A., Neill, L., Brown, A., & Aprea, R. (2015). The “New World”

and international pâtisserie competition. British Food Journal, 117(4), 1226-

1238. doi: 10.1108/BFJ-12-2013-0375